E. Hopper, Rooms by the sea (1951), oil on canvas, Yale University Art Gallery

The Man Born Blind, had experienced the worst of times and was continuing to experience them. He had been born blind. He had never seen his mother and father. There was nothing for him to do in the world except beg, which he did every day by the Pool of Siloam. Perhaps, his parents brought him there every day with the hope that he might got a little help. Or maybe his parents had put him out of the house once he reached a certain age. The man lived in a dark world. Then Jesus came and healed the man. He gave him sight. Now the man was attacked by the Pharisees for daring to say that this Jesus was a prophet. He was thrown out of the Temple, shunned by society. The man did not need the Temple anymore. Nor did he need society. He had Jesus. As the drama progresses, he grows in faith until at the end he worships Jesus. He was living in the best of times. Throughout our lives we all struggle through times of darkness, grasping for light. When will the darkness be over? When will we see the light at the end of the tunnel. Well, we do not know our struggles will come to an end. But we do know this: we can already see the light. Perhaps we are caring for a loved one who is lingering on in a slow death. Or maybe we are going from one crisis to another and wondering if we will ever see light again. We will. We will because the light is there for us. That light is the light of the Lord. A few verses before today’s Gospel, Jesus called out: «I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life.» Jesus is not just setting the scene for the drama of the Man Born Blind. He is speaking directly to us, to you and to me. He is telling us to put our trust in Him, to rest in him, and to know that no matter what happens in this world, good or bad, positive or negative, we will always enjoy the Light of Life. Together let us pray this morning for all who are suffering in anyway. We pray that they and all of us can recognize that Jesus provides us with the Light to guide us through the worst of times to the best of times • AE

---

Fr. Agustin´s Schedule for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

Saturday, March 18, 2023

3.30 p.m. Sacrament of Reconciliation (Confessional)

5.00 Holy Mass (main church)

Sunday, March 19, 2023

7.30 Holy Mass (main church)

10.00 Holy Mass (main church)

---

IV Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario (Ciclo A)

M. Gerung, La Curación del Ciego de Nacimiento (1430), Ottheinrich–Bibel, Biblioteca estatal de Baviera (Munich)

Es «ciego de nacimiento». No sabe lo que es la luz. Nunca la ha conocido. Ni él ni sus padres tienen la culpa, pero allí está él, sentado, pidiendo limosna. Su destino es vivir en tinieblas. Un día, al pasar Jesús por allí, ve al ciego. El evangelista dice que Jesús es nada menos que la «Luz del mundo». Tal vez recuerda las palabras del viejo profeta Isaías asegurando que un día llegaría a Israel alguien que «gritaría a los cautivos: ¡salid! y a los que están en tinieblas: ¡venid a la luz!». Jesús trabaja los ojos del pobre ciego con barro y saliva para infundirle su fuerza vital. La curación no es automática. También el ciego ha de colaborar. Hace lo que Jesús le medica: se lava los ojos, limpia su mirada y comienza a ver. Cuando la gente le pregunta quién lo ha curado, no sabe cómo contestar. Ha sido «un hombre llamado Jesús». No sabe decir más. Tampoco sabe dónde está. Sólo sabe que, gracias a este hombre, puede vivir la vida de manera completamente nueva. Esto es lo importante. Cuando los fariseos y entendidos en religión le acosan con sus preguntas, el hombre contesta con toda sencillez: pienso que «es un profeta». No lo sabe muy bien, pero alguien capaz de abrir los ojos tiene que venir de Dios. Entonces los fariseos se enfurecen, lo insultan y lo «expulsan» de su comunidad religiosa. La reacción de Jesús es conmovedora. «Cuando se enteró de que lo habían echado fuera, fue a buscarlo». Así es Jesús. No lo hemos de olvidar nunca: el que viene al encuentro de los hombres y mujeres que se sienten echados de la religión. Jesús no abandona a quien lo busca y lo ama, aunque sea excluido de su comunidad religiosa.El diálogo es breve: «¿Crees tú en el Hijo del Hombre?». Él está dispuesto a creer. Su corazón ya es creyente, pero lo ignora todo: «¿Y quién es, Señor para que crea en él?». Jesús le dice: no está lejos de ti. «Lo estás viendo: el que te está hablando, ése es». Según el evangelista, esta historia sucedió en Jerusalén hacia el año treinta, pero sigue ocurriendo hoy entre nosotros en pleno 2023 • AE

---

The Woman at the Well, from a 1684 Arabic manuscript of the Gospels, copied in Egypt by Ilyas Basim Khuri Bazzi Rahib (Coptic monk), The Walters Art Museum (Baltimore)

A woman came. She is a symbol of the Church not yet made righteous. Righteousness follows from the conversation. She came in ignorance, she found Christ, and he enters into conversation with her. Let us see what it is about, let us see why a Samaritan woman came to draw water. The Samaritans did not form part of the Jewish people: they were foreigners. The fact that she came from a foreign people is part of the symbolic meaning, for she is a symbol of the Church. The Church was to come from the Gentiles, of a different race from the Jews. We must then recognize ourselves in her words and in her person, and with her give our own thanks to God. She was a symbol, not the reality; she foreshadowed the reality, and the reality came to be. She found faith in Christ, who was using her as a symbol to teach us what was to come. She came then to draw water. She had simply come to draw water; in the normal way of man or woman. Jesus says to her: Give me water to drink. For his disciples had gone to the city to buy food. The Samaritan woman therefore says to him: How is it that you, though a Jew, ask me for water to drink, though I am a Samaritan woman? For Jews have nothing to do with Samaritans. The Samaritans were foreigners; Jews never used their utensils. The woman was carrying a bucket for drawing water. She was astonished that a Jew should ask her for a drink of water, a thing that Jews would not do. But the one who was asking for a drink of water was thirsting for her faith.

Listen now and learn who it is that asks for a drink. Jesus answered her and said: If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, “Give me a drink”, perhaps you might have asked him and he would have given you living water. He asks for a drink, and he promises a drink. He is in need, as one hoping to receive, yet he is rich, as one about to satisfy the thirst of others. He says: If you knew the gift of God. The gift of God is the Holy Spirit. But he is still using veiled language as he speaks to the woman and gradually enters into her heart. Or is he already teaching her? What could be gentler and kinder than the encouragement he gives? If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, “Give me a drink,” perhaps you might ask, and he would give you living water. What is this water that he will give if not the water spoken of in Scripture: With you is the fountain of life? How can those feel thirst who will drink deeply from the abundance in your house? He was promising the Holy Spirit in satisfying abundance. She did not yet understand. In her failure to grasp his meaning, what was her reply? The woman says to him: Master, give me this drink, so that I may feel no thirst or come here to draw water. Her need forced her to this labor, her weakness shrank from it. If only she could hear those words: Come to me, all who labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you. Jesus was saying this to her, so that her labors might be at an end; but she was not yet able to understand •

(This reflection on the conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan Woman at the Well (John 4:7-42) is used in the Roman Office of Readings for Sunday of the third week in Lent. It is taken from Augustine’s Treatise on the Gospel of John (Tract. 15, 10-12, 16-17: CCL 36, 154-156) written by St. Augustine in the early 5th Century)

---

Fr. Agustin´s Schedule for the Third Sunday of Lent (Cycle A)

Saturday March 11, 2023

3.30 p.m. Sacrament of Reconciliation (Confessional)

5.00 p.m. Holy Mass (Main Church)

Sunday March 12, 2023

12.30 p.m. Holy Mass.

3.00 p.m. Santa Misa

---

III Domingo de Cuaresma (Ciclo A)

J. de Ibarra, Jesús con la Samaritana (c. 1680), óleo sobre tela, Museo Nacional de Arte (Ciudad de México)

Cansado del camino, Jesús se sienta junto al manantial de Jacob, en las cercanías de la aldea de Sicar. Pronto llega una mujer samaritana a apagar su sed. Espontáneamente, Jesús comienza a hablar con ella de lo que lleva en su corazón. En un momento de la conversación, la mujer le plantea los conflictos que enfrentan a judíos y samaritanos. Los judíos peregrinan a Jerusalén para adorar a Dios. Los samaritanos suben al monte Garizim desde donse se ve el pozo de Jacob. ¿Dónde hay que adorar a Dios? ¿Cuál es la verdadera religión? ¿Qué piensa el profeta de Galilea? Jesús comienza por aclarar que el verdadero culto no depende de un lugar determinado, por muy venerable que pueda ser. El Padre del cielo no está atado a ningún lugar, no es propiedad de ninguna religión. No pertenece a ningún pueblo concreto. No lo hemos de olvidar. Para encontrarnos con Dios, no es necesario ir a Roma o peregrinar a Jerusalén. Es más, ni siquiera hace falta entrar en una capilla o visitar una catedral. Desde la cárcel más secreta, desde la sala de cuidados intensivos de un hospital, desde cualquier cocina o lugar de trabajo podemos elevar nuestro corazón hacia Dios y encontrarnos con Él. Jesús no habla a la samaritana de adorar a Dios. Su lenguaje es nuevo. Hasta por tres veces le habla de «adorar al Padre». Por eso, no es necesario subir a una montaña para acercarnos un poco a un Dios lejano, desentendido de nuestros problemas, indiferente a nuestros sufrimientos. El verdadero culto empieza por reconocer a Dios como Padre cercano, que nos acompaña de cerca a lo largo de nuestra vida. Jesús le dice algo más. El Padre está buscando verdaderos adoradores. No está esperando de sus hijos grandes ceremonias, celebraciones solemnes, inciensos y procesiones, aun cuando sean bonitas o vistosas. Lo que desea son corazones sencillos que le adoren en espíritu y en verdad. Adorar al Padre en espíritu es seguir los pasos de Jesús, es dejarnos conducir como él por el Espíritu del Padre que lo envía siempre hacia los últimos a los que nadie presta atención, siendo compasivos como es el Padre. Lo dice Jesús de manera clara: «Dios es espíritu, y quienes le adoran deben hacerlo en espíritu». Dios es amor, perdón, ternura, aliento vivificador…, y quienes lo adoran deben parecerse a él. Adorar al Padre en verdad es, pues, vivir en la verdad. Volver una y otra vez a la verdad del Evangelio. Ser fieles a la verdad de Jesús sin encerrarnos en nuestras propias mentiras. Después de veinte siglos de cristianismo, ¿hemos aprendido a dar culto verdadero a Dios? ¿Somos los verdaderos adoradores que busca el Padre? ¡Tanto qué preguntarnos en este tercer domingo de Cuaresma, fascinados por la conversación entre el Señor y la Samaritana • AE

---

Anonymous artist, Eucharistic Pelican, mosaic, sidealtar of Votivkirche cathedral (Vienna)

The lesson of the Transfiguration on this second Sunday of lent is quite simple: we have to follow the Lord without fear, weariness and regret. As what the three disciples ultimately realized, there is definitely a certain assurance that everything eventually turns out fine. It is like reading a novel where the happy ending is already known to us. No matter how difficult the problems that the main character encounters, we are not disheartened and continue reading because we know the story is sure to have a happy ending. At the Last Supper, Jesus left us an indelible memorial: the Eucharist. It is the sacrament of his Real Presence, thereby fulfilling His promise: “I am with you always until the end of the age.” No matter what happens, he is always with us, especially in the Eucharist. Should we open our eyes of faith, just as what the three disciples on the mountain did, we, too, will experience what Pope St. Gregory the Great proclaims, “The Liturgy is primarily a sacred act before God, which means that “at the hour of Sacrifice, in response to the priest’s acclamation, the heavens open up; the choirs of angels are witnessing this Mystery; what is above and what is below unite; heaven and earth are united, matters visible and invisible become united”. Is this not a Transfiguration experience? True, our senses do not perceive any change. The bread looks the same bread to us. The wine, too. But the change is not in the appearance, but in the substance. The bread still looks like bread; the wine still looks like wine. But at the Consecration, it has become the Body and Blood of Christ. Our Catholic Theology calls this “Transubstantiation.” St. Francis de Sales explains, “But when the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar is there, then this Presence is no longer imaginary, but most real; and the sacred species are but a veil from behind which the present Savior beholds and considers us, although we cannot see him as he is.” That’s why the holy Mass is accurately called “Heaven on Earth.” Heaven is the state of being in union with God. If we believe that Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist, it means, therefore, that the Mass is the experience of heaven on earth. How deeply do we cherish and appreciate those priceless moments while we are present in Holy Mass? Jesus is truly present. He is with us. Heaven begins right here. Today we could repeat those words of Thomas Aquinas in that precious hymn, Adoro te Devote; a hymn he himself composed for the celebration of the Corpus Christi solemnity in 1264, and which goes like this:

I devoutly adore you, hidden deity,

Who are truly hidden beneath these appearances.

My whole heart submits to You,

because in contemplating You, it is fully deficient.

Sight, touch, taste all fail in their judgment of you,

But hearing suffices firmly to believe.

I believe all that the Son of God has spoken;

There is nothing truer than this word of Truth.

On the cross only the divinity was hidden,

But here the humanity is also hidden.

Yet believing and confessing both,

I ask for what the penitent thief asked.

I do not see wounds as Thomas did,

But I confess that You are my God.

Make me believe much more in You,

Hope in you, and love You.

O memorial of our Lord’s death,

Living Bread that gives life to man,

Grant my soul to live on You,

And always to savor your sweetness.

Lord Jesus, Good Pelican,

clean me, the unclean, with Your Blood,

One drop of which can heal

the entire world of all its sins.

Jesus, whom now I see hidden,

I ask You to fulfill what I so desire:

That the sight of Your Face being unveiled

I may have the happiness of seeing Your glory. Amen • AE

---

Fr. Agustin´s Schedule for the Second Sunday of Lent (2023)

Saturday March 4, 2023

2.30 p.m. 50 Wedding Anniversary for Alicia and Manuel (Main church)

3.30 p.m. Sacrament of Reconciliation (Confessional)

Sunday March 5, 2023

7.30 a.m. Holy Mass

10.00 a.m. Holy Mass

---

Segundo Domingo de Cuaresma (Ciclo A)

G. De La Tour, Magdalena Penitente (1640), óleo sobre tela, Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York)

Hasta hace unos pocos años la religión la que ofrecía a la mayoría de las personas criterios para comprender la realidad y principios para orientar la vida con sentido y responsabilidad. Hoy son muchos los que prescinden de toda religión para enfrentarse solos y sin guía alguna a su vida, sus deseos, miedos y expectativas. No es fácil. Probablemente nunca le ha resultado al ser humano, tan difícil y problemático, pararse a pensar, reflexionar y elaborar decisiones sobre sí mismo y sobre qué es importante en la vida. Vivimos sumergidos en una cultura de la intrascendencia, que ata a las personas al aquí y al ahora, haciéndoles vivir sólo para lo inmediato, sin apertura alguna al misterio último de la vida. Nos movemos en una cultura del goce y la diversión que empuja al hombre a vivir olvidado de las grandes cuestiones que lleva en su corazón. El hombre y la mujer de hoy han aprendido muchas cosas, están verdaderamente informados de lo que acontece alrededor del mundo, pero no saben el camino para conocerse a sí mismos y construir su libertad. Muchos suscribirían la oscura descripción que hacía el G. Hourdin, hace algunos años: «El hombre se está haciendo incapaz de querer; de ser libre, de juzgar por sí mismo, de cambiar su modo de vida. Se está convirtiendo en el robot disciplinado que trabaja para ganar el dinero que después disfrutará en unas vacaciones colectivas. Lee las revistas de moda, interactúa en las redes sociales en las que están todos. Aprende así lo que es, lo que quiere y cómo debe pensar y vivir.» Por eso necesitamos más que nunca atender a la voz de Dios, la misma que escuchamos en el evangelio de este segundo domingo del tiempo de Cuaresma: «Este es mi Hijo, el amado, mi predilecto. Escuchadlo». Necesitamos detenernos, guardar silencio y escuchar más a Dios. Esa escucha interior ayuda a vivir en la verdad, a saborear la vida en sus raíces, a no malgastarla de cualquier manera, a no pasar superficialmente ante lo esencial. Escuchando a Dios, descubrimos nuestra pequeñez y pobreza, pero también nuestra grandeza de seres amados infinitamente por Dios. Cada uno es libre para caminar por la vida escuchando a Dios o dándole la espalda. Pero, en cualquier caso, hay algo que hemos de recordar todos, aunque resulte escandaloso y contracultural: vivir sin un sentido último es vivir de manera insensata; actuar sin escuchar la voz interior de la conciencia es ser un inconsciente • AE

Si tienes tiempo, y a propósito de la obra de arte que ilustra ésta texto, echale un vistazo a este maravilloso podcast:

---

Anonymous artist, The Temptations of Christ in the Desert (1128), Fresco transferred into canvas, The Cloisters at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York)

We are all tempted to sin. That is part of life. But we can defeat temptation. In some ways we all experience each of the temptations that the devil put before the Lord. The devil wanted Jesus to trust in His own power, rather than the Father. He wanted him to change rocks into bread. We also are tempted to trust in ourselves instead of trust in God. We cannot fall for the temptation to think that we can do everything ourselves. We have to trust in God. We have to have faith. Yes, we must do our best to provide for our future that of our loved ones, but, ultimately, we rely on the Lord to care for us. We can resist the temptation to push God out of our lives. This call to faith is not always that easy. In fact, it is usually quite difficult. It is quite difficult to spend so much time and energy on a child, or on a situation, for example a career, and then trust the future to God rather than to ourselves. It is tempting to think that we do not need God. In fact, that is the temptation of the atheistic elements of the world. The so-called intellectual elite often mock people of faith, belittling us for believing in God and asserting that they have wonderful lives without God. And then they write books about the quiet desperation of everyday man. We cannot allow these fools to sway us. We know that we need God. Daily. We cannot survive without God. We cannot be happy without Him. And we cannot live forever without Him. Like Jesus’ second temptation, we are tempted to force God into action instead of simply trusting in Him to care for us. We may not be standing on the edge of a building deciding that God must save us if we jump, but we may be toying with that which can destroy us, alcohol, sex, drugs, etc, and think, erroneously, that if we fall God will catch us. We may be living on the edge. It is presumption to think that God will take care of us if we live rejecting the way of life he has given us. God is All-Merciful, true, but He is also All Just. We trust in God, but, as Jesus told the devil, we don’t put God to a test. We have to resist the temptation to live life on the edge because if we slip, we fall into eternal death. And like Jesus, we can fight the temptation to be bought by the world. The devil tempts us to join those who do evil, tune down or turn off our consciences, and reap wealth beyond our imaginations. There is a lot of money to be made working in the low industries of our society, a lot of money to be made cheating our way to the top of the business world, but we refuse to sell our souls to the devil. We live for One and One only. We live for our Heavenly Father, not for ourselves. So, the goal of our lives is not to amass a fortune. The goal of our lives is to live for God. We have bought into the Kingdom, not sold our souls to the world, or to the devil, often the same thing. At the end of the Gospel Satan left Jesus, and the angels came to help Him. There are angels here. How many are in our parish? How many angels are in our homes? The angels are our protectors and our spiritual care givers. They will minister to us also as we join the Lord in the fight against evil. Let us not forget that we are warriors in the battle of the Lord against the power of the devil. We don’t fight alone. The Lord and His forces fight with us. We ask the Lord today to protect us from the temptations of the world, lead us not into temptation, and to deliver us from evil. And we trust in God for we know that we are loved; for as St. Paul says in the First Letter to the Corinthians, we have been purchased, and at what a price! • AE

---

• St. Dominic Catholic Church •

First Sunday of Lent 2023

Saturday February 25, 2023

4.00 p.m. Sacrament of Reconciliation

5.00 p.m. Holy Mass

Sunday February 26, 2023

7.30 a.m. Holy Mass

10.00 a.m. Holy Mass

12.30 p.m. Holy Mass

3.00 p.m. Misa en Español

---

I Domingo de Cuaresma (Ciclo A)

Lo propio de nuestra sociedad consumista es que no sólo consumimos lo necesario para la vida, sino que consumimos sobre todo y fundamentalmente bienes superfluos. Éste es un hecho que, además, mueve la política y la economía. Lo importante, segun esta mentalidad, es aumentar el crecimiento y subir el nivel de consumo. Todo gira en torno a este consumo de bienes superfluos. Los seres humanos hemos aprendido a cifrar el éxito, la felicidad y hasta la personalidad en poseer tal modelo de coche o vestir con tal marca. Es el modo natural de vivir. En este consumo vivimos, nos movemos y existimos. Pero, ¿sabemos lo que estamos haciendo?, ¿queremos seguir consumiendo de esta manera?, ¿es éste el mejor estilo de vida?, ¿no nos interesa cambiar y humanizar un poco más nuestra vida? Tal vez, lo primero es tornar conciencia de lo que estamos haciendo. Es un primer paso, pero importante. ¿Por qué compro tantas cosas?, ¿es para estar a la altura mis amigos?, ¿para demostrarme a mí mismo y a los demás que soy alguien y que quede claro que he triunfado? Podemos preguntamos también si somos libres o esclavos. ¿Soy dueño de mis decisiones, o termino comprando lo que me dicta la publicidad?, ¿tengo lo que me ayuda a vivir de manera digna y dichosa, o estoy llenando mi vida de cosas inútiles? Nos hemos de preguntar, sobre todo, si este consumismo tan irresponsable nos parece justo. Ya nada es bastante para vivir bien. Seguimos creando y creando necesidades siempre nuevas, sin sentirnos satisfechos. Mientras tanto, millones de seres humanos no tienen lo necesario para sobrevivir. ¿Qué pensar de todo esto? ¿No es injusto y estúpido? No sólo de pan vive el hombre, dice Jesús en el evangelio de hoy, una verdad que necesitamos volver escuchar una y otra vez. Este primer domingo del tiempo de Cuaresma nos trae, sí, preguntas incómodas, pero necesarias. Vitales • AE

---

Some consider tattoos to be an art, a form of personal expression. For others, it signifies belonging to a particular group — being part of the fraternity, for example, or even a gang. For others, it is a countercultural statement. But all of it, in some way, relates to what we are about to experience today, Ash Wednesday. Because, in a sense, we are about to receive a tattoo, a marking on our brows — an emblem that is not a decoration, but a declaration. It declares three things: First, these ashes declare we are human. That we are dust and one day we will be dust again.  These ashes tell anyone who sees them that we know the clock is ticking, that our time is limited. They declare that we know this much: one day, we will be gone. Secondly, they declare that because we are human, we are sinners. Flawed. Weak. We are not beautiful, perfect creatures. We bear the stain of sin. Thirdly, these ashes declare that because we are human and sinners, we have work to do.  We want to do it while we can. And the work begins here and now. It is the great work of reforming our lives to make ourselves ready for Easter, and the bright hope of the Resurrection.  These ashes declare that we want to be better than we are, through prayer, fasting and almsgiving. These ashes are also a very public declaration that we are works in progress. They remind anyone who sees them that we are more than just people who follow Jesus Christ. We are people who intend to spend these 40 days trying to live more like him — remembering daily what he gave for us, so that we can give more to others. That giving can and should be more difficult than just giving up chocolate or skipping dessert. As I said: We have work to do. So, where do we begin? Try this: forgive someone who has done you wrong. Pray for someone you hate. Reach out to someone who is ignored or disliked — whether it’s at work, at school, at home.  Let them know they have purpose and dignity. Visit someone who is lonely. Reconcile with someone you are alienated from — whether it’s a friend, a neighbor… or God. Especially God. Celebrate the sacrament of reconciliation with the Father who loves us. Go to confession. Pray that we each become better than we are. Because these marks we bear say that much. They tell the world that we are trying to be people who are more like Christ. People of sacrifice, of surrender, of selflessness, of love. But also people who want to move beyond the dusty ashes of Lent to feel anew the fire of the Easter Vigil. Finally, remember how we are starting Lent. Remember what these ashes mean. Because tomorrow, these marks should be more than a smudge on the pillow. They should leave a lasting mark on each of us — a silent reminder of our call to holiness, our call to be people on fire. Our call to conversion — conversion lived out with hope and trust in God’s mercy, and our own desire to be better tomorrow than we are today. It’s just that simple. And just that hard. These ashes are not a decoration, but a declaration. A declaration of our humanity, our weakness — but also our hope. They matter. We need to make them make a difference. In ourselves • AE

---

SOME READINGS FOR LENT

---

• St. Dominic Catholic Church •

Schedule for Ash Wednesday 2023

6.30 a.m. Liturgy of the Word and distribution of ashes

8.30 a.m. Holy Mass and distribution of Ashes

12.00 p.m. Liturgy of the Word and distribution of ashes

3.00 p.m. Liturgia de la Palabra e imposición de la ceniza

6.00 p.m. Holy Mass and distribution of Ashes (bilingual)

8.00 p.m. Liturgy of the Word and distribution of ashes

---

MIERCOLES DE CENIZA (2023)

Con la primera de las lecturas de hoy, Miércoles de Ceniza, la liturgia nos invita a hacer cambios en nuestro corazón. Podríamos hoy recordar aquel sencillo pensamiento de Fray Luis de Granada. Decía el autor castellano que debiéramos tener un corazón de hijo para con Dios, un corazón de madre para con los demás y un corazón de juez para con nosotros mismos.  Aqui hay una triple idea para el camibo que hoy iniciamos. Porque ¿cuál es la realidad de nuestro corazón? La realidad es que lo tenemos todo cambiado: tenemos un corazón de siervo para con Dios, de juez para con los demás, de madre para con nosotros mismos. Y así nos van las cosas. Siervos. Por mucho que le digamos Padre, acudimos a Dios con desconfianza, con cierto (o mucho) temor, con ciertas o muchas exigencias. De siervos a hijos. Que el Señor nos cambie ese atemorizado corazón, que nos haga  sentirnos gozosos y confiados en su presencia, que seamos capaces de ponernos en sus manos incondicionalmente. Un corazón de niño ante su Padre, que no le discute nada, que no le exige nada, que no le regatea nada. Un corazón que se siente inundado en cada momento por un amor poderoso y gratuito. Juez. Parece que todos hemos nacido con esta vocación. Nos encanta juzgar a los otros,  lo que hacen y dejen de hacer, lo que dicen y dejen de decir, lo que sienten o dejen de  sentir. Juzgamos hasta lo que piensan, que no siempre responde a lo que dicen. Y nuestros juicios son hirientes, tajantes, condenatorios. Nos complace ver el lado negativo de los demás. Los miramos fríamente y desde lejos, todo con lupa. Decimos que lo mejor es pensar mal. Repartimos a boleo premios y castigos; los primeros, pocos; los segundos, en abundancia. De juez a madre. Esto sí que sería un cambio de corazón. Las madres no juzgan a sus  hijos, porque los miran entrañablemente, porque los conocen profundamente, porque los  miran con el corazón. Ellas lo comprenden todo, porque aman. Tienen una paciencia infinita, porque esperan. Es el corazón que más se parece al de Dios. Si tuviéramos un  corazón de madre para los demás, las relaciones humanas serían comprensivas y  cordiales, nos sentiríamos seguros los unos de los otros, no tendríamos necesidad de  mentir y ser hipócritas. Si tuviéramos corazón de madre, nuestras relaciones se llenarían de luz. Madre. Para con nosotros mismos somos muy complacientes y benévolos. Nos parece que no hacemos nada malo, y si tenemos algún fallo es más bien sin  querer. Nos perdonamos enseguida. Algunas cosas que nos echan en cara, es porque no nos conocen; en el fondo somos buenos. Lo que pasa es que yo soy así, es mi temperamento y mi manera de ser. Yo no tengo pecado. De madre a juez. Nos convendría pues algo más de rigor y de exigencia para con nosotros mismos. Y escuchar más a los demás y aceptar sus juicios. Nos convendría que, si no somos capaces de conocernos y exigirnos, alguien nos ayudara a juzgarnos bien, con justicia pero también con amor, hemos de saber comprendernos, valorarnos y perdonarnos. Como vemos, en fin, el trabajo es mucho y la necesidad de reorganizar nuestro interior, apremiante ¡Manos a la obra! • AE

---

LECTURAS DE CUARESMA

---