Reading the other day the Gospel of the paralytic, (Luke 5, 17-26), the image of his friends kept coming to my mind. I wondered what they were like, while at the same time, I admired the fact that against all odds they managed to bring him before Jesus. How, seeing the difficulty, they did not give up, and creatively looked for another option so that their friend could have an encounter with the One they knew could heal him.
I have read this passage many times, and it is not the first time that I have tried to imagine the protagonists and the secondary characters who were there. How would the people feel when the paralytic appeared hanging from the ceiling? How would I have felt? How many of these friends were there? What would their names be? However, a new echo opens up in me.
It could be, as on other occasions, the desire to strengthen my faith to be like them, but this desire would not be new, since it is more than recurrent. And it is that I do not want to get used to it in the sense of conforming and living it in a routine and boring way. Who would want this? I suppose no one, but in life, if you do not put attention and intention in what you do, everything can become monotonous, including faith.
Doing things without thinking about their “why” or meaning, even if they are very good. Or doing them without putting yourself in play, is something quite easy, and about which I have already written. Living automatically is very common in this world that makes us move so fast.
This time it is not here where I stop. The echo that it has left me is more of a practical kind. It is in the realm of actions. Of those works, that should always be a reflection of the person we are or want to be, even if they cost us.
I thought about those friends who carried the stretcher and the great need there is for “stretcher bearers” at this time. People called to lead others towards that which is good, beautiful and true that they have known. People who, despite the inconveniences, are capable of going against the current and of pushing or supporting the stretchers of others. In short, stretcher bearers of hearts, who from their willing and expanded heart accompany the hearts of others.
I saw how throughout history and despite all the advances and discoveries of humanity, the core of the person, of what we are, has not changed and will not change: our heart.
A heart that is well-made, and that is clearly not content with what it is receiving. With what we are giving it: substitutes for love that in no case satisfy its desire and thirst to love and be loved.
A heart that is hardened by the many occupations that lead us to an activism where accumulating experiences is a requirement to be able to be someone. A world where constant noise doesn’t leave us a moment of inner silence to put the compass to work: where am I going? What is my north? Am I going well? Should I recalculate the route?
A wonderful world that, however, has placed having things at the top of its aspirations and not being. Where an emotive sentimentalism reigns that stays at the most superficial part of the person and leaves them at the mercy of the ups and downs of their moods.
But it turns out that this heart, ours, yours and mine – which we try to satisfy with these fools that are very appealing at first sight – is made for good love. To fill it with people with specific names and faces. Made to get out of itself and make room for those who are not me.
I don’t know what it was like in times past. Sometimes, it seems that what happens to us has never happened and if it has happened, now it is worse. I don’t think it is like that and each era, as History teaches us, has its own desire.
I can speak of what I am experiencing now and far from wanting my gaze to focus only on the negative, I really see that imperative need for stretcher-bearers who push stretchers or are crutches. Of people willing to help others to wake up from their lethargy; who welcome and look for those who limp and are behind; so many who are emotionally paralyzed because their heart has been deceived for so long.
People who, knowing and understanding Who is the doctor who can heal hearts, set out to accompany others to meet him with the hope of the goal and without rushing. Who know themselves limited and small, but at the same time very great for being unique and unrepeatable. Who trust despite the difficulties and who have their heart ready for others, seeking their good, even if that may mean that they get blisters.
Accompanying without judging. Sometimes supporting. Other times, pushing. Other times, just being there, but always putting that paralytic first. Just as he is and just as he is. Stretcher-bearers who know they are indebted to others who helped them before.
And I thought of my stretcher-bearers… of those people who have pushed my stretcher or who, even, have carried me on their shoulders. So many names, so many hearts… how grateful I am.
And I return to the starting point… the world needs many stretcher-bearers and I, with the great little that I am, long to be one of them.
