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La ciudad de hoy y su historia

Fue la primera etapa funcional de Panamá. Y la cumplió

Ernesto A. Holder
Extractos de este escrito fue publicado hace unos años. Para mí es de interés, porque creo que estamos viviendo tiempos que nos retan a ser mejores. Los desafíos a la condición sociocultural del panameño y las amenazas a la institucionalidad misma, son materia obligada de reflexión que creo válida en el marco de estas recordaciones.
Esta semana debe marcarse en el calendario de la nacionalidad como una de las de mayor importancia. Celebramos 498 años de fundación de la ciudad de Panamá, por Pedrarias Dávila en 1519. En esa misma fecha, en 1914, el vapor SS Ancón, hace la primera travesía oficial por el Canal de Panamá. Del primer evento, el libro de Ángel Rubio, La Ciudad de Panamá, cuenta que ‘El Panamá de Pedrarias Dávila fue un vivero constante de expediciones extraordinarias. En él se fraguó la aventura del Perú. Pedrarias, enamorado de las bellezas naturales de Nicaragua y deslumbrado por el rumor de los triunfos de Cortés, prefería que las expediciones siguiesen dirección del noroeste. [...] Fue la primera etapa funcional de Panamá. Y la cumplió'.
Esta ciudad de Pedrarias, conocida popularmente como Panamá La Vieja, ciento cincuenta y dos años después de su fundación, y después de numerables violaciones a su integridad y a sus habitantes, sucumbió antes las amenazas que por siempre la acecharon. Dice Ángel Rubio que: ‘un juego de fuerzas y energías la crearon; eran fuerzas propicias. Otro juego de fuerzas y energías hostiles, negativas, trabajaron sin descanso en su contra [...]. Y al fin murió trágicamente'.
Del segundo evento, la inauguración del Canal de Panamá se dio como un propósito alentado durante siglos para facilitar el paso entre dos grandes océanos. El mismo Pedrarias, entre 1514 y 1526, por instrucciones de la Corona española, busca un paso seguro al Mar del Sur. En 1534, animado por las ventajas que para este fin provee el Istmo de Panamá, el rey Carlos V de España ordenó los primeros estudios topográficos sobre el terreno para la construcción de un canal transístmico. Después de esto, la historia es rica en acontecimientos, retos y personajes. Casi 300 años después, opera el ferrocarril transístmico como eslabón de la ruta hacia el oro de California; el conde Fernando de Lesseps y el esfuerzo francés por construir un canal a nivel por el Istmo de Panamá y la capitulación de ese sueño; la tecnología y el ingenio de la época que permitió —por parte de los norteamericanos— la construcción de un canal de tres esclusas que llevó a ese famoso primer tránsito del vapor Ancón.
Las dos fechas convergen en el mismo punto del calendario para acentuar la importancia de esta semana, en la vida de esta tierra, a lo largo de los siglos. Y hoy los dos temas, la ciudad y el Canal, vuelven a representar para la historia de nuestro país un punto de significativa importancia que marcará el futuro de sus habitantes.
El Canal ampliado, en funcionamiento desde junio del año pasado, corresponde con la visión mantenida durante siglos acerca del aprovechamiento de la localización geográfica del país y no solo reafirma su vocación de cumplir el papel que debe jugar en el panorama de las rutas marítimas mundiales, sino que lo hace a partir del hecho de que constituye el recurso más estratégico del desarrollo de Panamá.
Cuando diseñaron la nueva ciudad de Panamá a las faldas del Cerro Ancón, se tomó el cuidado de organizar cuidadosamente el trazado y funcionamiento de la ciudad. Las fuerzas actuales del llamado desarrollo, encuentran en esta fecha ambigüedades con esa disciplina histórica. Lo que queda de la ciudad que fundó Pedrarias, las frágiles estructuras de Panamá La Vieja, se debate entre el ruido y las vibraciones, en el centro de un desordenado engrandecimiento de la nueva ciudad. Carreteras y rascacielos contaminan el espacio visual alrededor de las ruinas y la circulación de miles de habitantes, en sus vehículos motorizados y sus apuros cotidianos, atenta contra las reminiscencias de la historia. Las amenazas ya no son de los piratas y los corsarios. Las obras que modernizan la ciudad están indeleblemente teñidas de corrupción y la historia futura nos lo recordará.
Celebremos los dos acontecimientos que muchas veces parecen indiferentes para la mayoría. Los logros del pasado deben seguir marcándonos para bien.

Festividades del día 15 de Agosto del 2017

  • Aniversario de la Asociación Nacional para la Conservación de la Naturaleza
  • Aniversario del Corregimiento de Parque Lefevre (1938)
  • Día Nacional de la India
  • Fundación de Panamá La Vieja, Provincia de Panamá
  • Fundación del Distrito de Los Remedios, Provincia de Chiriquí
  • Inauguración del Canal de Panamá
  • Independencia de Corea del Sur



¿Qué impide el cambio? | Estanislao Bachrach | WOBI

Disfrutar la vida | Irene Villa | WOBI

La verdad es mentira | Daniel Molina

The Virgin Mary, Mother of Our Lord. 15 August NT

The honor paid to Mary, the virgin mother of Jesus Christ our Lord and God, goes back to the earliest days of the Church. Indeed, it goes back further, for even before the birth of her Son, Mary prophesied, "From this time forth, all generations shall call me blessed."

The New Testament records several incidents from the life of the Virgin: her betrothal to Joseph, the Annunciation by the angel Gabriel that she was to bear the Messiah, her Visitation to Elizabeth the mother of John the Baptist, the Nativity of our Lord, the visits of the shepherds and the magi, the Presentation of the infant Jesus in the Temple at the age of forty days, the flight into Egypt, the Passover visit to the Temple when Jesus was twelve, [Matthew 1:16,18-25; 2; Luke 1:26-56; 2]; the wedding at Cana in Galilee and the performance of her Son's first miracle at her intercession [John 2:1-11], the occasions when observers said, "How can this man be special? We know his family!" [Matthew 13:54-56 = Mark 6:1-3 = Luke 4:22; also John 6:42], an occasion when she came with others to see him while he was preaching [Matthew 12:46-50 = Mark 3:31-35 = Luke 8:19-21], her presence at the foot of the Cross, where Jesus commends her to the care of the Beloved Disciple [John 19:25-27], and her presence with the apostles in the upper room after the Ascension, waiting for the promised Spirit [Acts 1:14]. She is thus seen to be present at most of the chief events of her Son's life.

Besides Jesus himself, only two humans are mentioned by name in the Creeds. One is Pontius Pilate, Roman procurator of Judea from 26 to 36 AD. That Jesus was crucified by order of Pontius Pilate pins down the date of his death within a few years, and certifies that we are not talking, like the worshippers of Tammuz or Adonis, about a personification or symbol of the annual death and resurrection of the crops. His death is an event in history, something that really happened. The other name is that of Mary. The Creeds say that Christ was "born of the virgin Mary." That is to say, they assert on the one hand that he was truly and fully human, born of a woman and not descended from the skies like an angel. On the other hand, by telling us that his mother was a virgin they exclude the theory that he was simply an ordinary man who was so virtuous that he eventually, at his baptism, became filled with the Spirit of God. His virgin birth attests to the fact that he was always more than merely human, always one whose presence among us was in itself a miracle, from the first moment of his earthly existence. In Mary, Virgin and Mother, God gives us a sign that Jesus is both truly God and truly Man.

It sometimes happens that someone will report an appearance of the Virgin Mary, bearing a message, usually encouraging faithfulness in prayer. A reader has asked, "How far back do such reports go?" According to Donald Attwater (Penguin Dictionary of Saints), Gregory of Nyssa (335-395) says that the earliest known report of a supernatural appearance of the Blessed Virgin to anyone was of one to Gregory Thaumaturgos (213-270). At the request of a Roman Catholic listmember, I point out that the genuineness of these appearances is not official Roman Catholic doctrine. It is perfectly possible to reject all such appearances as delusions, and still be a Roman Catholic in good standing.

Little is known of the life of the Virgin Mary except insofar as it intersects with the life of her Son, and there is an appropriateness in this. The Scriptures record her words to the angel Gabriel, to her kinswoman Elizabeth, to her Son on two occasions. But the only recorded saying of hers to what may be called ordinary, run-of-the-mill hearers is her instruction to the servants at the wedding feast, to whom she says simply, indicating her Son, "Whatever he says to you, do it."

This we may take to be the summation of her message to the world. If we listen to her, she will tell us, "Listen to Him. Listen to my Son. Do what He tells you." When we see her, we see her pointing to her Son. If our regard for the Blessed Virgin does not have the immediate effect of turning our attention from her to the One whom she carried in her womb for nine months and suckled at her breast, to the Incarnate God, the Word made flesh, then we may be sure that it is not the kind of regard that she seeks. A right regard for her will always direct us to Him Who found in her His first earthly dwelling-place.



Jonathan Myrick Daniels, Seminarian. 14 August 1965

Jonathan Myrick Daniels was born in New Hampshire in 1939, one of two offspring of a Congregationalist physician. When in high school, he had a bad fall which put him in the hospital for about a month. It was a time of reflection. Soon after, he joined the Episcopal Church and also began to take his studies seriously, and to consider the possibility of entering the priesthood. After high school, he enrolled at Virginia Military Institute (VMI) in Lexington, Virginia (37:47 N 79:27 W), where at first he seemed a misfit, but managed to stick it out, and was elected Valedictorian of his graduating class. During his sophomore year at VMI, however, he began to experience uncertainties about his religious faith and his vocation to the priesthood that continued for several years, and were probably influenced by the death of his father and the prolonged illness of his younger sister Emily. In the fall of 1961 he entered Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts, near Boston (41:20 N 71.05 W), to study English literature, and in the spring of 1962, while attending Easter services at the Church of the Advent in Boston, he underwent a conversion experience and renewal of grace. Soon after, he made a definite decision to study for the priesthood, and after a year of work to repair the family finances, he enrolled at Episcopal Theological Seminary in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in the fall of 1963, expecting to graduate in the spring of 1966.

In March 1965 Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, asked students and others to join him in Selma, Alabama (32:24 N 87:01 W), for a march to the state capital in Montgomery (32:22 N 86:20 W) demonstrating support for his civil rights program. News of the request reached the campus of ETS on Monday 8 March (my sources are a bit confused on the chronology of that week, but I think this is correct), and during Evening Prayer at the chapel, Jon Daniels decided that he ought to go. Later he wrote:

"My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." I had come to Evening Prayer as usual that evening, and as usual I was singing the Magnificat with the special love and reverence I have always felt for Mary's glad song. "He hath showed strength with his arm." As the lovely hymn of the God-bearer continued, I found myself peculiarly alert, suddenly straining toward the decisive, luminous, Spirit-filled "moment" that would, in retrospect, remind me of others--particularly one at Easter three years ago. Then it came. "He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble and meek. He hath filled the hungry with good things." I knew then that I must go to Selma. The Virgin's song was to grow more and more dear in the weeks ahead.
He and others left on Thursday for Selma, intending to stay only that weekend; but he and a friend missed the bus back, and began to reflect on how an in-and-out visit like theirs looked to those living in Selma, and decided that they must stay longer. They went home to request permission to spend the rest of the term in Selma, studying on their own and returning to take their examinations. In Selma, many proposed marches were blocked by rows of policemen. Jon describes one such meeting (ellipses not marked).

After a week-long, rain-soaked vigil, we still stood face to face with the Selma police. I stood, for a change, in the front rank, ankle-deep in an enormous puddle. To my immediate right were high school students, for the most part, and further to the right were a swarm of clergymen. My end of the line surged forward at one point, led by a militant Episcopal priest whose temper (as usual) was at combustion-point. Thus I found myself only inches from a young policeman. The air crackled with tension and open hostility. Emma Jean, a sophomore in the Negro high school, called my name from behind. I reached back for her hand to bring her up to the front rank, but she did not see. Again she asked me to come back. My determination had become infectiously savage, and I insisted that she come forward--I would not retreat! Again I reached for her hand and pulled her forward. The young policeman spoke: "You're dragging her through the puddle. You ought to be ashamed for treating a girl like that." Flushing--I had forgotten the puddle--I snarled something at him about whose-fault-it-really-was, that managed to be both defensive and self-righteous. We matched baleful glances and then both looked away. And then came a moment of shattering internal quiet, in which I felt shame, indeed, and a kind of reluctant love for the young policeman. I apologized to Emma Jean. And then it occurred to me to apologize to HIM and to thank him. Though he looked away in contempt--I was not altogether sure I blamed him--I had received a blessing I would not forget. Before long the kids were singing, "I love ---." One of my friends asked [the young policeman] for his name. His name was Charlie. When we sang for him, he blushed and then smiled in a truly sacramental mixture of embarrassment and pleasure and shyness. Soon the young policeman looked relaxed, we all lit cigarettes (in a couple of instances, from a common match, and small groups of kids and policemen clustered to joke or talk cautiously about the situation. It was thus a shock later to look across the rank at the clergymen and their opposites, who glared across a still unbroken "Wall" in what appeared to be silent hatred. Had I been freely arranging the order for Evening Prayer that night, I think I might have followed the General Confession directly with the General Thanksgiving--or perhaps the Te Deum.
Jon devoted many of his Sundays in Selma to bringing small groups of Negroes, mostly high school students, to church with him in an effort to integrate the local Episcopal church. They were seated but scowled at. Many parishioners openly resented their presence, and put their pastor squarely in the middle. (He was integrationist enough to risk his job by accommodating Jon's group as far as he did, but not integrationist enough to satisfy Jon.)

In May, Jon went back to ETS to take examinations and complete other requirements, and in July he returned to Alabama, where he helped to produce a listing of local, state, and federal agencies and other resources legally available to persons in need of assistance.
On Friday 13 August Jon and others went to the town of Fort Deposit (32:00 N 86:36 W) to join in picketing three local businesses. On Saturday they were arrested and held in the county jail in Hayneville (32:11 N 86:35 W) for six days until they were bailed out. (They had agreed that none would accept bail until there was bail money for all.) After their release on Friday 20 August, four of them undertook to enter a local shop, and were met at the door by a man with a shotgun who told them to leave or be shot. After a brief confrontation, he aimed the gun at a young girl in the party, and Jon pushed her out of the way and took the blast of the shotgun himself. (Whether he stepped between her and the shotgun is not clear.) He was killed instantly. Not long before his death he wrote:

I lost fear in the black belt when I began to know in my bones and sinews that I had been truly baptized into the Lord's death and Resurrection, that in the only sense that really matters I am already dead, and my life is hid with Christ in God. I began to lose self-righteousness when I discovered the extent to which my behavior was motivated by worldly desires and by the self-seeking messianism of Yankee deliverance! The point is simply, of course, that one's motives are usually mixed, and one had better know it.

As Judy and I said the daily offices day by day, we became more and more aware of the living reality of the invisible "communion of saints"--of the beloved comunity in Cambridge who were saying the offices too, of the ones gathered around a near-distant throne in heaven--who blend with theirs our faltering songs of prayer and praise. With them, with black men and white men, with all of life, in Him Whose Name is above all the names that the races and nations shout, whose Name is Itself the Song Which fulfils and "ends" all songs, we are indelibly, unspeakably ONE.

(Note: Much of Alabama has brick-red clayey soil. The region where the soil is black loam is called "the black belt." The term has no racial referent, although Yankees often assume that it does.)
(Note: Because Bernard of Clairvaux is remembered on 20 August, Jonathan Daniels is remembered on the day of his arrest, 14 August.)
Source: The Jon Daniels Story, ed. William J Schneider (Seabury Press, NY, 1967; 67-20940)


Maximilian Kolbe, Friar, Martyr. 14 August 1941

Raymond Kolbe (who took the name Maximilian when he became a friar) is known chiefly for the manner of his death, but his life was also noteworthy. He was born in 1894 near Lodz (51:49 N 19:28 E) in a part of Poland then under Russian rule, of parents who worked at home as weavers. In 1910 he became a Franciscan, taking the name Maximilian. His parents then undertook the monastic life, his mother as a Benedictine and his father as a Franciscan. His father left the order (I assume before taking life vows) to run a religious bookstore, and then enlisted with Pilsudski's army to fight the Russians. He was captured and hanged as a traitor in 1914.

Maximilian studied at Rome and was ordained in 1919. He returned to Poland and taught Church history in a seminary. He left the seminary (1) to found an association named for the Virgin Mary and dedicated to spreading the Roman Catholic faith and assisting those who held it to learn more about it; and (2) to establish a printing press and publish a periodical for the members of his association, consisting largely of Christian apologetics. He built a friary just west of Warsaw (52:15 N 21:00 E), which eventually housed 762 Franciscans and printed eleven periodicals (one with a circulation of over a million), including a daily newspaper. In 1930 he went to Asia, where he founded friaries in Nagasaki (34:25 N 129:52 E) and in India. In 1936 he was recalled to supervise the original friary near Warsaw. When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, he knew that the friary would be seized, and sent most of the friars home. He was imprisoned briefly and then released, and returned to the friary, where he and the other friars sheltered 3000 Poles and 1500 Jews, and continued to publish a newspaper encouraging its readers.

In May 1941 the friary was closed down and Maximilian and four companions were taken to Auschwitz, where they worked with the other prisoners, chiefly at carrying logs. Maximilian carried on his priestly work surreptitiously, hearing confessions in unlikely places and celebrating the Lord's Supper with bread and wine smuggled in for that purpose.

In order to discourage escapes, the camp had a rule that if a man escaped, ten men would be killed in retaliation. In July 1941 a man from Kolbe's bunker escaped. The remaining men of the bunker were led out and ten were selected, including a Sergeant Francis Gajowniczek. When he uttered a cry of dismay, Maximilian stepped forward and said, "I am a Catholic priest. Let me take his place. I am old. He has a wife and children." The officer had more use for a young worker than for an old one, and was happy to make the exchange. The ten men were placed in a large cell and left there to starve. Maximilian encouraged the others with prayers, psalms, and meditations on the Passion of Christ. After two weeks, only four were alive, and only Maximilian was fully conscious. The four were killed with injections of carbolic acid on 14 August 1941.



CHANTICLEER: O Frondens Virga by Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179)

VocaMe - "O tu illustrata" - Hildegard von Bingen