Cara a cara con Él (Solemnidad de Todos los Santos, 2018)

La liturgia de la Iglesia celebra este primer día de Noviembre a la gran multitud de aquellos que durante su vida decidieron siguieron a Cristo y que ahora, más allá de la muerte, entonan sin cesar un cántico de su felicidad. Todos los santos son originales. No nacieron impecables, desde luego, pero creyeron en la originalidad de Dios, que promete su Reino a los desvalidos y a los humildes. Los santos son originales, porque fueron hombres y mujeres que caminaron al revés, y es que las Bienaventuranzas –las escucharemos hoy en el evangelio- no tienen otra finalidad que volver del revés el mundo. Hoy recordamos a los santos conocidos, “los taquilleros”, que diría mi señor cura Donato, pero también están todos los demás, los que nunca serán canonizados por la Iglesia ¡Y qué importa! El caso es que su santidad está precisamente en haber creído en el Amor y muchas veces en silencio y sin brillo. A contracorriente ellos reinventaron el amor aquí en la tierra y dieron testimonio de un mundo nuevo. Con ésta alegre solemnidad celebramos la bienaventuranza de la santidad. Bienaventuranza del que perdona sin alimentar rencores, del que absuelve sin escuchar el alegato, del que sonríe a la vida, incluso cuando el día pinta difícil y complicado. Hoy celebramos la bienaventuranza de los corazones puros, cuyos cristales no están empañados por la contaminación del mundo. Hoy podríamos pedirle al Señor una mirada limpia y un corazón sincero para percibir el amor con el que Él nos ama, y que lo dejemos hacer. La santidad se conoce en el rostro transparente, desbordante de la paz que brota del corazón del hombre y la mujer enamorado de su Creador. "Cuando veamos al Señor, seremos semejantes a él" escucharemos en la plegaria eucarística. La santidad es justo eso: mirar a Dios y dejarnos mirar por Él  • AE

Do we really want to be good people? (Solemnity of All Saints, 2018)

Jesus has just given us his challenging advice on how to be good people. He has told us, in fact, how to be the best people we can be, and about the qualities he wants to see in us, his followers. A quick focus on those qualities shows us that they are the very opposite of common and accepted standards and values: – The world around us says, ‘Blessed are the rich, because they can have anything they want.’ But Jesus says, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit.’ By ‘poor in spirit’ he means those who put their trust in God rather than money; and those who admit that it is not their income, possessions or bank account that makes them rich in the eyes of God, but what kind of people they are. The world says, ‘Blessed are those who live it up, and never stop having fun.’ But Jesus says, ‘Blessed are those who mourn.’ He means those who let themselves feel the misfortune, pain and sorrow of others, and who respond to them with understanding, sympathy, kindness, compassion, and practical assistance. The world says, ‘Blessed are the assertive and aggressive that talk tough and act tough.’ But Jesus says, ‘Blessed are the gentle.’ Gentleness is not weakness, but a form of strength. St Francis de Sales used to say that you can catch more flies with a spoon full of sugar than a barrel full of vinegar. In Jesus’ book there’s just no place for bullies and bullying. The world says, ‘Blessed are those who hunger for power, status, and fame.’ But Jesus says, ‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for what is right.’ The only power and status we really need is to keep living in God’s way and to keep doing the right thing. More satisfaction and contentment will be found in living with a good conscience than in hanging out with the movers and shakers and wannabes of this world. The world says, ‘Blessed are those who show no mercy and who take no prisoners.’ But Jesus says, ‘Blessed are the merciful.’ Happy are those who make allowances for the faults and sins of others, and whose greatness lies in their ability to forgive. They will receive mercy and forgiveness from God for their own sins. The world says, ‘Happy are those with clean fingernails, sparkling eyes, gleaming teeth, and unblemished skin.’ But Jesus says, ‘blessed are those with clean hearts.’ It’s from the heart that all our thoughts, words, and actions flow. If the heart is clean, then everything that flows from it will be clean, as clean as water flowing from an unpolluted spring. The world says, ‘Blessed are those who get even and exact revenge.’ But Jesus says, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers.’ Happy are those who spread understanding among people, those who welcome strangers, and those who work for a more just and equal society. They are truly the children of God. The world says, ‘Blessed are those who lie and cheat and get away with it.’ But Jesus says, ‘Blessed are those who make a stand for what is right and true.’ They may suffer for their stand, but the wounds they bear will be marks of honour and integrity. Jesus practised what he preached. In his own person he was the beatitudes. Living them day after day made him the thoroughly good person he was. It’s the same for us too. Our Feast today is reminding us of our deep-down longings to become better people than we currently are! Surely too it is reminding us that Jesus Christ can and will empower us to practise what he preached and to live what we believe! Surely, then, we won’t ever want to stop receiving him as our Bread of Life in Holy Communion! • AE

I will be out of town from Wednesday, October 31 to Wednesday, November 7; resuming the usual schedule on Thursday, November 8. 

For Mass schedule and Confession time during those days, you can visit the websites of our parish communities:

Our Lady of Grace

St. Peter Prince of the Apostles

Our Lady of Sorrows

Vivir, amar y creer (XXX Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario. Ciclo B)

Al final de una crisis en la vida de fe hay una encrucijada de donde salen dos  caminos. El primero lleva a un embarcadero donde hay un velero en el que se puede viajar y, mas adentro, arrojar por la borda como algo inútil, un fantasma de Dios que se habían formado desde niños. El segundo es uno más largo. Es un camino en el que vamos buscando, a veces con dolor, el verdadero rostro de Dios. Es un camino en el que a los caminantes se les han roto en mil pedazos las imágenes falsas de la divinidad pero han seguido a Dios. Al final de ese camino hay una especie de jardín sereno y no demasiado Rococó ni Barroco en el que, a pesar de todas sus limitaciones y las vacilaciones que hubo en el camino, viven  la experiencia nueva de creer en un Dios cercano que los despierta cada mañana a la vida  y llena de alegría y de paz su lucha diaria. Quizás, el verdadero secreto para creer en Dios sea saber decir desde el fondo del  corazón, de verdad y con sencillez total, aquella plegaria del ciego de Jericó: “Maestro, que  vea". Sólo entonces estamos caminando hacia Dios[1]. En realidad el pecado mas grande con el que vivimos los cristianos es no abrir los ojos. Dice un proverbio judío que «lo último que  ve el pez es el agua». Así somos nosotros. Como peces que no ven el agua en que nadan.  Como pájaros que no ven el aire en que vuelan. Nos movemos y vivimos en Dios, pero no lo  vemos[2]. Dios es simple y lo hemos hecho complicado. Es cercano a cada uno de nosotros, y lo imaginamos en un mundo extraño y lejano. Queremos comprobar su existencia con  argumentos y no saboreamos su gracia. Nos alegra saber que Einstein y otros científicos han defendido que existe, pero no sabemos disfrutar de su presencia silenciosa en nuestras vidas. No se trata de hacer gala de una fe grande y profunda. Lo importante es abrirse con sencillez a la vida y acercarse con confianza al misterio que nos envuelve. Escuchar toda llamada que nos invita a vivir, amar y crear. No vivir tan esclavos de las cosas #Detachment Detenernos por fin un día, bajar en silencio a lo más íntimo de nosotros mismos y atrevernos a decir con  sinceridad: "Señor, que vea". El hombre o la mujer que, después de haber abandonado tantas prácticas y creencias, se atreve a hacer esta oración en su corazón es ya un  verdadero creyente. Y es que querer creer es ya empezar a creer • AE

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[1] J. A. Pagola, Buenas Noticias, Navarra 1985, p. 239 ss.

[2] Cfr. Hech 17, 28.

Fr. Agustin´s Schedule for October 27-28, 2018 (Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time)

Saturday October 27, 2018.

5.00 p.m. Sacrament of Reconciliation

@ Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.

6.00 p.m. Holy Mass in English

@ Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.

  

Sunday October 28, 2018.

   

12.00 p.m. Holy Mass in English

@ Our Lady of Grace Catholic Church.

5.30 p.m. Holy Mass in English

@ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.

...

Totally dependent on the mercy of God! (Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time. Cycle B).

Master of the Gathering of the Manna, Healing of the blind man of Jericho, 

oil on canvas, St. Catherine's Convent Museum,  Utrecht (the Netherlands)

...

In the Gospel today, we hear about Jesus healing this blind man named Bartimaeus.  Bartimaeus is a really interesting and powerful character in the Gospel, and he is struggling with blindness. But Bartimaeus is also a beggar, and this is probably a fairly overlooked point.. Spiritually speaking, we’re all beggars –we can’t fix any of our spiritual problems and we all depend on God.  So in this story, we’re meant to identify with Bartimaeus, who like us, is a beggar. When Bartimaeus is calling out to Jesus for help, he says, “Son of David, have pity on me!”  In Greek, that’s “eleison me, eleison me!” Actually, at the beginning of Mass, we say the same thing: “Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.”  Essentially, it could be translated, “Lord, have pity on me.  Christ, have pity on me.  Lord, have pity on me,” – just like the blind man! At the beginning of every Mass, we’re putting our lives into context.  We’re putting ourselves ritually in the position of Bartimaeus in that we realize that we are beggars and we need help.  Actually, that’s the virtue of Bartimaeus in the Gospel – he knows that he’s a beggar, and that he can’t fix his own problems, and so he calls out to Christ to save him. I’m sure that there are a lot of people here who have found themselves in the same situation. There are people who find themselves overwhelmed with the family situation, or health issues, or financial stuff, or the overall situation of the world today.  There are people who are overwhelmed with some attachment to sin that they can’t seem to be rid of.  And what does that feel like?  That’s right, complete powerlessness.  No matter how hard you try, you can’t fix this. You can’t do it on your own power. You are a beggar like Bartimaeus, and the only thing you can do in these troubling and desperate situations is call out to God. When Bartimaeus is called he throws off his cape. But… wait a second…he’s blind. If this whole Jesus thing doesn’t work out, how’s he going to find it again?  That’s pretty much all his security and protection against rain, cold, or whatever. It’s pretty much everything he has. He abandons himself to God in order to run to him. That is what faith is: abandonment to God. Faith is leaving behind all the things that we want to keep ourselves self-sufficient, leaving behind all the things we want to control but can’t. So as we come near to the Lord in the Eucharist today, we recognize that we are beggars totally dependent on the mercy of God to make us whole.  May we rise then, leaving our powerlessness behind, and give ourselves to his loving care • AE

A Love that pays a ransom in abundance! (Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time. Cycle B)

G. Tiépolo, La Crucifixión, óleo sobre tela,

Museo Nacional del Prado (Madrid).

...

For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many. Ransom is a figure of speech, of course, not a literal statement. Jesus didn’t pay anything to anyone. But he did “pay the price”, as it were, on his sacrifice on the Cross, his decision to love the many - that undefined, unlimited multitude, that we are. He paid the price of his commitment to love us unconditionally by being killed for it. I was thinking the other day about those of who have been married for years.  In their own way they also have “paid the price” of loving – of loving each other and loving their family. From the moment that the glow of the honeymoon started to fade for sure they realized that they were committed to each other and that both were far from perfection. Over the years they have been dying to self for your love to survive, to grow and to thrive. They have willingly “paid the price” of loving for the sake of the beloved one. What a great example! Those of us who never got married, or who became widowed (or separated or divorced) have also known the inevitable pain of the choice to love and to live authentically the loneliness, the unfulfilled desires, the tiredness –especially when we have chosen to dedicate our energies to the service of the community, or to work for justice and compassion. Our second reading today talks about Jesus being tempted in every way that we are, though without sin. As catholics we must tend to live a life of faithful commitment but being aware that our life will be a one of constant temptation – the temptation to step back, to think of ourselves, to refuse to be stretched any further. We can all know the pain of dreams unfulfilled, of hopes not answered, of friendships betrayed, of service unappreciated. We have known the temptations to futility, despair and bitterness. Jesus knew them, too. In one shape or other, a “price to be paid” seems to lurk in the background of all those who allow themselves to feel and to follow the enthusiasm associated with love. Yet the choice to remain committed -and to be stretched- is the way to peace, fulfilment, joy, serenity, and wisdom. It’s all something of a mystery -a wonderful mystery before which we can only stand quietly grateful, and somewhat overjoyed. It’s the sort of experience we would love to hand on to others. It is the energy, indeed, behind the Church’s commitment to mission, the place from which all the martyrs of Christ took the strength to shed their blood for Him and for the sake of gospel. The Church desires so much to share her insights into love, and her access to the love of God made visible in our Lord, Savior and Messiah Jesus Christ. Can we drink the cup that the Lord drank, and be baptized with the baptism with which Jesus was baptized? • AE

Fr. Agustin´s Schedule for October 20-21, 2018 (Twenty-nineth Sunday in Ordinary Time)

Saturday October 20, 2018.

5.30 p.m. Holy Mass of the 80th Anniversary 

of Our Lady ofGrace Parish.

Sunday October 21, 2018.

  

8.30 a.m. Holy Mass in Spanish

@ Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.

10.00 a.m. Holy Mass in English

@ Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.

11.30 a.m. Holy Mass in English

@ Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.

...

Possums! (XXIX Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario. Ciclo B)

El Greco, San Juan Evangelista (1609), 

óleo obre lienzo, Museo del Prado (Madrid)

...

El evangelio de este domingo, el XXIX del Tiempo Ordinario empieza con una frase sospechosa: "Se acercaron a Jesús los hijos del Zebedeo". Se está hablando de una familia, de un clan, de un grupo de poder. Cuando uno es "el hijo de", "el director de", "o el presidente de", mala cosa. Mala cosa porque entonces el valor sagrado del ser humano desaparece para aparecer la bambolla del cargo, de la influencia, del dinero, del poder. Lo que le dicen aquellos dos hermanos a Jesús es como lógico, como consecuente: Concédenos sentarnos en tu gloria, uno a tu derecha y otro a tu izquierda. Santiago y Juan aún no habían terminado de entender prácticamente nada, pero Jesús no se enoja sino que explica pacientemente que con él no hay “palancas”: el Reino no es el GCC, ni un banco, ni un negocio, ni la oficina de admisiones de una escuela. El Reino no funciona por favoritismos o nepotismo. Los que sí se molestan ante la osadía de los hijos de Zebedeo ¡son los demás apóstoles! Y es que probablemente iba a pedir lo mismo y los otros dos se les han adelantado #risas Los discípulos de Jesús eran todavía habitantes terrenos, lejo de ser ciudadanos del Reino. Como nosotros. Pero el Señor vive con ello la pedagogía paciente del amor, y les da, con infinita ternura, una gran lección sobre uno de los asuntos más delicados: el sentido del poder. De todo poder. Tener poder no es servirse de los demás, sino servirlos. No es aprovecharse para dominar y tiranizar, con aires de superioridad. El verdadero poder, como le gusta tanto repetir al santo Padre Francisco, es el servicio[1], la disposición total a servir a los demás. "El que quiera ser grande, sea vuestro servidor; el que quiera ser primero, sea esclavo de todos. Porque el Hijo del Hombre no ha venido para que le sirvan, sino para servir y dar su vida en rescate de todos". Las palabras de Jesús no pueden ser más claras y terminantes. Y sabemos muy bien que no hay en ellas ninguna metáfora, la más mínima retórica. Basta mirar a la cruz y hoy, en la celebración de la eucaristía podríamos hacerlo, y preguntarnos en silencio y con honestidad si estamos dispuesto a beber el cáliz del Señor y ser bautizados con un bautizo de sangre y fuego, como los apóstoles, como los el ejército de lo mártires del Cordero[2] • AE

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[1] http://www.publicacionesclaretianas.com/sites/default/files/fichaVerdPodServ.pdf

[2] Cfr Apoc 12, 11.

We have some new saints in the family! (Twenty-eigth Sunday in Ordinary time. Cycle B)

The second reading tells us that “the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword (Heb 4:12). It really is: God’s word is not merely a set of truths or an edifying spiritual account; no – it is a living word that touches our lives, that transforms our lives. There, Jesus in person, the living Word of God, speaks to our hearts. The Gospel, in particular, invites us to an encounter with the Lord, after the example of the “man” who “ran up to him” (cf. Mk 10:17). We can recognize ourselves in that man, whose name the text does not give, as if to suggest that he could represent each one of us. He asks Jesus how “to inherit eternal life” (v. 17). He is seeking life without end, life in its fullness: who of us would not want this? Yet we notice that he asks for it as an inheritance, as a good to be obtained, to be won by his own efforts. In fact, in order to possess this good, he has observed the commandments from his youth and to achieve this he is prepared to follow others; and so he asks: “What must I do to have eternal life?”

Jesus’s answer catches him off guard. The Lord looks upon him and loves him (cf. v. 21). Jesus changes the perspective: from commandments observed in order to obtain a reward, to a free and total love. That man was speaking in terms of supply and demand, Jesus proposes to him a story of love. He asks him to pass from the observance of laws to the gift of self, from doing for oneself to being with God. And the Lord suggests to the man a life that cuts to the quick: “Sell what you have and give to the poor…and come, follow me” (v. 21). To you, too, Jesus says: “Come, follow me!” Come: do not stand still, because it is not enough not to do evil in order to be with Jesus. Follow me: do not walk behind Jesus only when you want to, but seek him out every day; do not be content to keep the commandments, to give a little alms and say a few prayers: find in Him the God who always loves you; seek in Jesus the God who is the meaning of your life, the God who gives you the strength to give of yourself.

Again Jesus says: “Sell what you have and give to the poor.” The Lord does not discuss theories of poverty and wealth, but goes directly to life. He asks you to leave behind what weighs down your heart, to empty yourself of goods in order to make room for him, the only good. We cannot truly follow Jesus when we are laden down with things. Because if our hearts are crowded with goods, there will not be room for the Lord, who will become just one thing among the others. For this reason, wealth is dangerous and – says Jesus – even makes one’s salvation difficult. Not because God is stern, no! The problem is on our part: our having too much, our wanting too much suffocates us, suffocates our hearts and makes us incapable of loving. Therefore, Saint Paul writes that “the love of money is the root of all evils” (1 Tim 6:10). We see this where money is at the center, there is no room for God nor for man. Jesus is radical. He gives all and he asks all: he gives a love that is total and asks for an undivided heart. Even today he gives himself to us as the living bread; can we give him crumbs in exchange? We cannot respond to him, who made himself our servant even going to the cross for us, only by observing some of the commandments. We cannot give him, who offers us eternal life, some odd moment of time. Jesus is not content with a “percentage of love”: we cannot love him twenty or fifty or sixty percent. It is either all or nothing.

Dear brothers and sisters, our heart is like a magnet: it lets itself be attracted by love, but it can cling to one master only and it must choose: either it will love God or it will love the world’s treasure (cf. Mt 6:24); either it will live for love or it will live for itself (cf. Mk 8:35). Let us ask ourselves where we are in our story of love with God. Do we content ourselves with a few commandments or do we follow Jesus as lovers, really prepared to leave behind something for him? Jesus asks each of us and all of us as the Church journeying forward: are we a Church that only preaches good commandments or a Church that is a spouse, that launches herself forward in love for her Lord? Do we truly follow him or do we revert to the ways of the world, like that man in the Gospel? In a word, is Jesus enough for us or do we look for many worldly securities? Let us ask for the grace always to leave things behind for love of the Lord: to leave behind wealth, leave behind the yearning for status and power, leave behind structures that are no longer adequate for proclaiming the Gospel, those weights that slow down our mission, the strings that tie us to the world. Without a leap forward in love, our life and our Church become sick from “complacency and self-indulgence” (Evangelii Gaudium, 95): we find joy in some fleeting pleasure, we close ourselves off in useless gossip, we settle into the monotony of a Christian life without momentum, where a little narcissism covers over the sadness of remaining unfulfilled.

This is how it was for the man, who – the Gospel tells us – “went away sorrowful” (v. 22). He was tied down to regulations of the law and to his many possessions; he had not given over his heart. Even though he had encountered Jesus and received his loving gaze, the man went away sad. Sadness is the proof of unfulfilled love, the sign of a lukewarm heart. On the other hand, a heart unburdened by possessions, that freely loves the Lord, always spreads joy, that joy for which there is so much need today. Pope Saint Paul VI wrote: “It is indeed in the midst of their distress that our fellow men need to know joy, to hear its song” (Gaudete in Domino, I). Today Jesus invites us to return to the source of joy, which is the encounter with him, the courageous choice to risk everything to follow him, the satisfaction of leaving something behind in order to embrace his way. The saints have traveled this path.

Paul VI did too, after the example of the Apostle whose name he took. Like him, Paul VI spent his life for Christ’s Gospel, crossing new boundaries and becoming its witness in proclamation and in dialogue, a prophet of a Church turned outwards, looking to those far away and taking care of the poor. Even in the midst of tiredness and misunderstanding, Paul VI bore witness in a passionate way to the beauty and the joy of following Christ totally. Today he still urges us, together with the Council whose wise helmsman he was, to live our common vocation: the universal call to holiness. Not to half measures, but to holiness. It is wonderful that together with him and the other new saints today, there is Archbishop Romero, who left the security of the world, even his own safety, in order to give his life according to the Gospel, close to the poor and to his people, with a heart drawn to Jesus and his brothers and sisters. We can say the same about Francesco Spinelli, Vincenzo Romano, Maria Caterina Kasper, Nazaria Ignazia of Saint Teresa of Jesus, and also our Abruzzese-Neapolitan young man, Nunzio Sulprizio: the saintly, courageous, humble young man who encountered Jesus in his suffering, in silence and in the offering of himself. All these saints, in different contexts, put today’s word into practice in their lives, without lukewarmness, without calculation, with the passion to risk everything and to leave it all behind. Brothers and sisters, may the Lord help us to imitate their example[1].

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[1] HOLY MASS AND CANONIZATION OF THE BLESSEDS: PAOLO VI, OSCAR ROMERO, FRANCESCO SPINELLI, VINCENZO ROMANO,  MARIA CATERINA KASPER, NAZARIA IGNAZIA DI SANTA TERESA DI GESÙ, NUNZIO SULPRIZIO. HOMILY OF HIS HOLINESS POPE FRANCIS. St Peter's Square, Sunday, 14 October 2018. 

Fr. Agustin´s Schedule for October 13-14, 2018 (Twenty-eigth Sunday in Ordinary Time)

Saturday October 13, 2018.

3.00 p.m. Wedding at Our Lady of Grace Catholic Church.

5.00 p.m.- 6.00 p.m. Sacrament of Confession.

@Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.

6.00 p.m. Holy Mass in English

@Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church.

Sunday October 14, 2018.

9.00 a.m. Holy Mass in English

@St. Peter Prince of the Apostles.

11.00 a.m. Holy Mass in English

@St. Peter Prince of the Apostles.

 5.30 p.m. Holy Mass in English

@ Trinity University.

Con una conversación silenciosa (XXVIII Domingo del Tiempo Ordinario. Ciclo B)

"

A estas palabras, él frunció el ceño y se marchó pesaroso, porque era muy rico". Así termina el relato del [breve] encuentro entre el Señor y el joven al que el evangelista llama “muy rico”[1]. A aquel muchacho –no sabemos su nombre- le parece excesivo el precio que tiene que pagar para pertenecer a los seguidores de Jesús. Esperaba del Maestro otra cosa: que le hubiera mandado hacer más obras buenas, dar una limosna mucho más generosa, y no fue así. Lo que el Señor quería era su corazón, y éste completo. La molestia le vino al joven porque quizá quedó al descubierto su verdadera situación interior., y a quién le gusta que los demás conozcan lo que pasa por dentro… No cabe duda ¡Qué peligroso es dialogar  tan abiertamente con Jesús! Pero ¿de qué sirve hacerlo de otra manera? Aquel muchacho tenía muchos  bienes, y su corazón estaba anclado en ellos, vivía dividido entre su deseo de ser fiel a Dios y su amor por las cosas materiales. Al final, por conservar la propia fortuna, dejó ir la oportunidad de seguir al Señor. Atención: no es que haya dejado de cumplir algún mandamiento, pero la carga le impidió volar alto. Veinte siglos después los cristianos no somos tan diferentes de aquel muchacho: queremos ser buenos,  echar una mano de vez en cuando, dar de lo que nos sobra, y desde luego participar del Reino, pero también nos gusta disfrutar y sobre todo poseer. Decimos que seguimos al Maestro, y lo seguimos, pero a ratos de lejos, a veces de oídas, sin terminar de entender que la alegría de nuestro corazón está no en el tener, sino en el ser, y que más que una vida rica, el Señor propone una vida plena. San Agustín lo decía estupendamente bien: "Fecisti nos ad te et inquietum est cor nostrum donec requiescat in te"[2].  Y Bach hizo de ésta idea una de sus mejores composiciones: "Jesús sigue siendo mi alegría /consuelo y bálsamo de mi corazón / Jesús me defiende de toda pena /Él es la fuerza de mi vida, el gozo y el sol de mis ojos /el tesoro y la delicia de mi alma / por eso no quiero dejar ir a Jesús fuera de mi corazón y de mi vista"[3]. Seguiremos enamorados de los bienes materiales mientras no descubramos al Señor, mientras pensemos en Él como en una pieza de museo o un juez implacable. ¿Y si este fin de semana intentamos hablar con él al calor de la liturgia y en el silencio de nuestro corazón? • AE

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[1] Cfr. Mc 10,17-30.

[2] Nos hiciste, Señor, para Ti y nuestro corazón está inquieto hasta que no descanse en Ti. San Agustin, Confesiones, I, I. 

[3] Jesús, alegría de los hombres (título original en alemán: Jesus bleibet meine Freude, Jesús sigue siendo mi alegría) es el décimo movimiento de la cantata Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, BWV 147 del compositor alemán Johann Sebastian Bach, escrita durante su primer año en Leipzig, Alemania. Estrictamente, se trata de un coral protestante. Está escrito para coro de cuatro voces (tenor, soprano, contralto y bajo) y orquesta, que interpreta la melodía principal.