“Those Who Saw the Star” by Julia Esquivel (poem)

Sanchez Cerron, Josue_Christmas in the Andes
Josué Sánchez Cerrón (Peruvian, 1945–), Navidad en los Andes (Christmas in the Andes)

The Word, for our sake, became poverty clothed as the poor who live off the refuse heap. 

The Word, for our sake, became agony in the shrunken breast of the woman grown old by the absence of her murdered husband.

The Word, for our sake, became a sob a thousand times stifled in the immovable mouth of the child who died from hunger.

The Word, for our sake, became rebellion before the lifeless body of Gaspar Sanchez Toma, “scientifically” murdered.

The Word, for our sake, became danger in the anguish of the mother who worries about her son growing into manhood.

The Word became an ever-present absence among the 70,000 families torn apart by death.

The Word, for our sake, became an inexorable accusation arising from the blazing craters which swallowed up their tortured bodies.

The word-knife cut us deeply in that place of shame: the painful reality of the poor.

The Word blew its spirit over the dried bones of the Mummified-Churches, guardians of silence.

The Word, that early-morning-bugle, awoke us from the lethargy which had robbed us of our Hope.

The Word became a path in the jungle, a decision on the farm, love in women, unity among workers,
and a Star for those few who can inspire dreams.

The Word became Light,
The Word became History,
The Word became Conflict,
The Word became Indomitable Spirit,
and sowed its seeds
upon the mountain,
near the river, and in the valley,

and those-of-good-will heard the angels sing.

Tired knees were strengthened,
trembling hands were stilled,
and the people who wandered in darkness
saw the light!

Then,

The Word became flesh in a nation-pregnant-with-freedom,
The Spirit strengthened the arms which forged Hope,
The Verb became flesh in the people who perceived a new day, and for our sake became life in Mary and Joseph who embrace Righteousness and bury the people’s ignominy.

The Word became the seed-of-justice
and we conceived peace.

The Word cried out to the world the truth about the struggle against the anti-man.

The Word made justice to rain
and peace came forth from the furrows in the land.

And we saw its glory in the eyes of the poor converted into true men and women.

Grace and Truth celebrated together
in the laughter of the children rescued by life.

And those-who-saw-the-star
opened up for us
the path we now follow.

Meanwhile,
Herod, slowly dying,
is eaten by worms.

The Word became judgment
and the anti-men ground their teeth.

The Word became forgiveness
and human hearts
learned to beat with love.

And the Word shall continue sowing futures
in the furrows of Hope.

And on the horizon,
the Word made light
invited us to relive a thousand dawns
toward the Kingdom that comes.

The Word will gather us round her table.
And they will come from the East and the West,
from the North and the South,
and dressed in incorruption
we-will-finally-be-happy.

Translated from the Spanish by Maria Elena Acevedo, René Calderón, Maria Elena Caracheo, Sister Caridad Inda, and Philip Wheaton in the bilingual Threatened with Resurrection / Amenazado de Resurreción: Prayers and Poems from an Exiled Guatemalan (The Brethren Press, 1982).

Julia Esquivel (1930–2019) was a Guatemalan poet, theologian, lay preacher, biblical studies teacher, social worker, and human rights activist. In 1953 she moved to Costa Rica to study at the Seminario Biblico Latinoamericano, returning to Guatemala to work at the Instituto Evangélico América Latina. After speaking out against the massacres, assassinations, torture, and forced disappearances being carried out by the Guatemalan military and police, she received death threats and survived two kidnapping attempts and thus went into forced exile in 1980, finding refuge in the monastic Communauté de Grandchamp in Switzerland. She studied at the Ecumenical Institute at Château de Bossey, run by the World Council of Churches. She returned to her home country in 1996 after the signing of the Peace Accords, helping document over two hundred thousand civilian deaths and disappearances for the Recovery of Historical Memory Project and working with women traumatized by violence. She is the author of several books, including the poetry collections Threatened with Resurrection (1982) and The Certainty of Spring (1993).

Advent, Day 3: True Liberty

LOOK: Nativity by Josué Sánchez Cerrón

Sánchez Cerrón, Josué_Nativity
Josué Sánchez Cerrón (Peruvian, 1945–), Nativity, 1982. Acrylic on canvas, 88 × 144 cm. © missio Aachen.

LISTEN: “Toda la Tierra” (All Earth Is Waiting) by Alberto Taulé, 1972 | Spanish text and music by Alberto Taulé © 1972, 1993 Centre de Pastoral Litúrgica, Barcelona, admin. OCP Publications; English translation by Gertrude C. Suppe © 1989 United Methodist Publishing House

Below are two performances of this Advent song. The first is by a man and woman from the Parroquía Divino Niño Jesús in Morelia, Mexico, and the second is by the choir Tallo De Amor, from Mexico City:

Toda la tierra espera al Salvador
y el surco abierto, la obra del Señor;
es el mundo que lucha por la libertad,
reclama justicia y busca la verdad.

Dice el profeta al pueblo de Israel:
“De madre virgen ya viene Emmanuel,”
será “Dios con nosotros,” semilla será,
con él la esperanza al mundo volverá.

Montes y valles habrá que preparar;
nuevos caminos temenos que trazar.
él está ya muy cerca, venidlo a encontrar,
y todas las puertas abrid de par en par.

En una cueva Jesús apareció,
pero en el mundo está presente hoy.
Vive en nuestros hermanos, con ellos está;
y vuelve de nuevo a darnos libertad.

ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

All earth is waiting to see the Promised One,
and the open furrows, the sowing of the Lord.
All the world, bound and struggling, seeks true liberty;
it cries out for justice and searches for the truth.

Thus says the prophet to those of Israel:
“A virgin mother will bear Emmanuel,”
for his name is “God with us,” our brother shall be,
with him hope will blossom once more within our hearts.

Mountains and valleys will have to be made plain;
open new highways, new highways for the Lord.
He is now coming closer, so come all and see,
and open the doorways as wide as wide can be.

In the lowly stable the Promised One appeared,
yet, feel his presence throughout the earth today,
for he lives in all Christians and is with us now;
again, with his coming he brings us liberty.

Trans. Gertrude C. Suppe

Alberto Taulé (1932–2007) from Barcelona, Spain, was a Roman Catholic priest and a composer of liturgical music who “believed that every parish should have a dynamic, evolving repertoire”—that “quality music and the regular introduction of new songs are vital to a parish’s spiritual health,” as his Catholic Online obituary reads. Working in the wake of the Second Vatican Council (1962–65), which sanctioned the use of vernacular languages and musical styles in the Mass, Taulé wrote new worship songs that could be grafted into the preexisting liturgical structure, used during the entrance procession, the offertory, the Eucharist, or the closing.

In Spanish-speaking church communities around the world, “Toda la Tierra” is sometimes used as the entrance song for one of the four Advent Sundays. Since the United Methodist Church commissioned an English translation from Gertrude C. Suppe and added the song (with bilingual lyrics) to its hymnal in 1989, it has become more widely known in English-speaking communities as well.

The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America published a different English translation by Madeleine Forell Marshall in the 2006 edition of its hymnal, Evangelical Lutheran Worship; hers preserves the aabb rhyme scheme of the original Spanish and begins with the line “All earth is hopeful, the Savior comes at last!”

The Spanish verb esperar means both “to wait” and “to hope” and is thus especially fitting to describe the action of the church during Advent.