Saint Jorges Borges owed his existence to the conjunction of a mirror and an encyclopedia, each finding the other satisfactory for its need. The Aranmula kannadi in the British Museum and the 29th volume of Saint Denis’ Systematic Dictionary of Science, Arts, and the Trades met in a eucharistic ray 22° upward and to the right of the primary apsidal crucifix in the Church of San Benito de Palermo in a suburb on the northern outskirts of Buenos Aires, begetting on August 24 1899 St. Jorges Borges and laying him at the center of a man-eating tiger lily labyrinth, out of which he had to find his way if he wished even a brief existence.
There are saints so pure they bypass flesh in entering the world. They detour through labyrinths so arcane and musty the common citizen must balk at even a distant vision of them. Their minds are so lush with undiscovered flowers and anarchic insects that the sound and beauty of the world beats in lesser syllables and they would die rather than not sing the garden fury they hear within. St. Jorges Borges was such a saint.
In 1955 God bared his irony by granting him 800,000 books and darkness simultaneously. The saint accepted the gift with grace. On June 14 1986, having been lost in so many labyrinths, having grown old in so many mirrors, the director of La Bibliotheque Nationale de Heaven swooped St. Jorges Borges upwards on the back of a hrön and turned him into a text of infinitely shifting letters and placed him in that celestial library which contains all books that have been written, all that will, that might, and all that will never be or even thought. He was elevated to sainthood by the Council of I on this day in 2003. Let us honor the saint today with our souls and souls.
