Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

Jesus comes in riding on a donkey as the prophet Zechariah had foretold. People lay their cloaks before Him. Men and women cheered.  Children sang.   Jesus remained quiet.  He knew that there would be a radical change in the way that most perceived Him. They were ready for a Messiah to rule them. They were not ready for a Messiah to suffer for them. And so, we come to that huge contrast, the contrast from palms to passion.  We displayed this in our liturgy with the change of music and vestments, from white to red. The events we commemorate during Holy Week often re-occur in our own lives.  One minute we are acclaimed, feted, made to feel altogether good about ourselves. We do have those times when people congratulate us for doing our job well, for getting good grades in school, or for some sport accomplishment, or an accomplishment in dance, music or other areas of fine arts.  And then, suddenly, everything changes.  Suddenly we are no longer that genius in the office, that brilliant student, that wonder on the athletic field. In this “What have you done for me lately?” world, we can find ourselves feted one moment and forgotten the next. Then when things go wrong, we wonder, “Where did the crowd go?” And we feel very much alone, as Jesus felt when only a handful of people were there to support him on the hill of Calvary. Jesus was there on the hill because he was true to Himself.  He lived and died for the Kingdom of God. He lived and died to lead us to the Kingdom of God. Like the Lord, we can and must be true to ourselves.  We have to realize that it is not the opinion of the masses that matter.  What matters is that we are true to ourselves. If that brings us to our own cross, and it will, if that results in the crowd of supporters being reduced to just a handful of our closest friends and immediate family, and it will, so be it.  Standing up for what is right and true, what is moral and just, is never going to be popular. What matters is that we are who we were created to be, reflections of God’s love in the world.  If standing up for what is right and moral results in our being mocked and rejected, if there are times that we feel very alone in proclaiming and living our faith, then we are in good company. We need to be true to ourselves, our inner-selves, our spiritual selves. We need to be true to the image of God we were created to reveal to the world.  We need to embrace our cross as the Lord embraced His Cross.  And when we take those steps of courage, when we leap into a living faith, we need to remember that no matter what is happening around us, no matter whether we are feted or forgotten, the Lord embraces us. We remember the Lord’s Passion this week, uniting our own struggles to His. And we pray for the faith to recognize that the Lord sees us, knows our determination to live for Him, and is present to guide us through the cross to the joy of everlasting life • AE


[1] Cf. John 15:18


Fr. Agustin’s Schedule for Palm Sunday of the Lord´s Passion (2021)

Saturday, March 27, 2021.

4.00 p.m. Sacrament of Confession

5.30 p.m. English Mass @ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.

Sunday, March 28, 2021.

9.00 a.m. English Mass @ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.

11.00 a.m. English Mass @ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.

5.30 p.m. English Mass @ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.


Domingo de Ramos de la Pasión del Señor (2021)

Si nos fijamos, el burro fue una de las pocas cosas que necesitó Jesús. Mandó a sus discípulos que se lo trajeran, «porque el Señor lo necesita»[1]. Jesús nunca pidió dinero, ni casa, ni comida. Por no pedir, no pidió ni que lo defendieran. Pidió, sí, un par de veces un poco de agua, a la vez que prometía veneros de agua viva. ¡Qué hermosa recompensa tendrán los que sepan ofrecer a los sedientos un vaso de agua fresca! Ahora Jesús necesita un burro. No pide un mulo o un caballo. El burro se adapta mejor, porque es paciente, es manso, es laborioso, es sencillo, es pequeño, es humilde. El burro carga con todo, como Jesús. Hay pinturas que simbolizan a Jesús como un elefante que lleva sobre sus lomos el peso del mundo. El burro vale para todos los trabajos, especialmente los humildes. Jesús se entrega a todo lo que el Padre le pide. El burro se deja conducir fácilmente. También Jesús se deja llevar enteramente de la mano del Padre. El burro no es violento, y aguanta muchos palos. Es lo que hizo Jesús en su pasión: aguantar. El burro no se presenta a concursos, ni se jacta de su trabajo, ni exige recompensas. Tampoco Jesús se presentó de manera gloriosa, sino que se ocultó en el más grande anonimato y se rebajó hasta la muerte de cruz. El burro tiene dos grandes orejas, porque está más dispuesto a escuchar que a rebuznar. Algo que va siempre muy bien con todo discípulo de Cristo. El evangelio nos da dos detalles fascinantes: «En él ningún hombre ha montado»[2]. El mismo dato lo recoge Lucas: «En él ningún hombre ha montado jamás»[3]. Este paseo de Jesús era por lo tanto una primicia, como si el burro estuviera hecho y preparado para esto. No estaba aún manchado por otras monturas y otros caminos. Estaba reservado para el Mesías y para la paz. Su misión era llevar en triunfo al princpe de la paz. Utilizamos con frecuencia la paloma como símbolo de la paz; quizá podíamos utilizar más el burro. Un detalle más. El último. Dice el evangelio, del burro, que «Luego lo devolverá»[4]. El Señor no quiere propiedades, y menos exigidas. Así que, terminada la procesión, los discípulos devolvieron el burro a sus dueños. Seguro que el burro echaría de menos tan buena montura. Hubiera sido maravilloso que en este burro nadie más hubiese montado. O, quizá, que lo montaran todos, todos los que llevaban en el corazón el mensaje de la paz. Recordando el asno, al que alude Jacob en su bendición a Judá[5], la liturgia siríaca hace un simbólico y precioso comentario: «Jacob ató un asno a una cepa de viña y esperó. Vino Zacarías, que lo desató y lo dio a su Señor» ¡Quién fuera como el burro del Domingo de Ramos! • AE


[1] Mc. 11, 3 [2] 11, 2 [3] 19, 3 [4] 11, 3 [5] Gn. 49, 11.



Sacrament of Confession

My fellow Parishioners: I am available to celebrate the Sacrament of Confession at the following places and times:

Monday at Our Lady of Grace from 6.00 a.m. to 6.50 a.m. (@ Eucharistic Chapel)

Tuesday at St. Peter Prince of the 6.00 a.m. to 6.50 a.m. (@ Eucharistic Chapel)

Wednesday at Our Lady of Sorrows from 7.30 a.m. to 8.00 a.m. (@ Confessional) & at St. Peter Prince of the Apostles

from 4.00 p.m. to 5.30 p.m. (@ Confessional)

Friday at Our Lady of Grace from 4.00 pm to 6.00 pm (@ Confessional)

Saturday at Our Lady of Grace from 7.00 a.m. to 7.55 a.m. (@ Confessional)

Saturday at St. Peter Prince of the Apostles from 4.00 p.m. to 5.30 p.m. (@ Confessional)

If none of these spots works well for you, please email me (agusestrada@gmail.com) so we can arrange a convenient

day and time for you. Peace! • Fr. AE


Fifth Sunday of Lent (2021)

The Agony in the Garden with the Donor Louis d’Orléans, Museo Nacional del Prado (Madrid)

In today’s Gospel Jesus announces that the hour is upon him. Today’s Gospel also contains the Johannine equivalent of the Agony in the Garden, during which time Jesus says, “What should I say, ‘Father save me from this hour?’ No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour”[1]. John introduces the Passion of the Lord by saying, “Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father.  Having loved his own in the world, he loved them to the end”[2]. Jesus concludes the Great Discourse of the Last Supper by praying to his Father, “the hour has come, glorify your Son so that your Son may glorify you”[3]. Obviously, when Jesus uses the phrase, hour, he isn’t merely referring to the time of day it might be. No, he is speaking about a central moment of human history. The hour is the moment that the world will be transformed. The hour is the point of human history when spiritual life will be restored. The hour is the moment when death and evil will be defeated by Love. The hour is the moment when the mortal will receive immortality. And Jesus said in today’s Gospel, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself”[4]. The power of the cross. The power of the love of God. The central moment of human history. The hour. We Christians live in this moment, this hour. Whether we stood at the foot of the cross like Mary and John or whether we were born two thousand years later, the hour is real to us. We are there. We are always before the Lord on the cross. We kneel during the Eucharistic Prayer of the Mass and pray to the Father with the Lord as he offers his Body and Blood for us. Every Mass renews the hour. We exalt when a baby, a child or an adult is baptized because we have witnessed that person being directed into the hour, the hour where spiritual joins physical.  We weep when a loved one dies, but our faith is full of hope for now the hour becomes the physical joining the spiritual. The hour of the Lord is real for us when we feel ourselves united to him on his cross, drawn to him as the Gospel prophesied, and lifted up from the burdens of this life into the realm of the spiritual. When we celebrate a funeral, the priest will often incense the body at the final commendation as a sign of our prayers rising up to God for the deceased and as a sign that the body is holy, because God dwelt there. It is all the hour of the Lord. Through the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ, his hour has become our hour, his death has become our life, our deaths have become his life, his love. In the Paradisio, the third book of Dante’s Divine Comedy the poet speaks about the whirl of love that is heaven as each person unites his or her love to the Love of God, all becoming one in love yet each remaining an individual lover. Death and life are united.  Sacrifice and gift are merged. Love Conquers All! This is why we honor the cross. This is why we wear crosses around our necks. This is why the purpose of our lives is to realize, to make real, the love of Christ in our homes and in our lives. We have to allow Christ’s love to direct our lives.  His hour is our hour.  And his hour is upon us • AE


[1] Cf Jn 12:20-33 [2] Id 13:1 [3] Id 17:1 [4] Cfr. 12:20-33


Fr. Agustin’s Schedule for the Fifth Sunday of Lent (2021)

Saturday, March 20, 2021.

4.00 p.m. Sacrament of Confession

5.30 p.m. English Mass (Third Scrutiny for RCIA)

@ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.

Sunday, March 21, 2021.

8.30 a.m. English Mass @ Our Lady of Grace Catholic Church (Outdoors mass)

10.30 a.m. English Mass @ Our Lady of Grace Catholic Church (Outdoors mass)

5.30 p.m. English Mass @ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.


V DOMINGO DE CUARESMA (2021)

En este quinto y último domingo de Cuaresma la liturgia nos pone delante una serie de textos que podrían ayudarnos a entender, entre otras cosas, que con el final de este tiempo penitencial pasamos de la vieja a la nueva alianza. La antigua alianza se había quedado pequeña; pequeña y muerta. Ahogada en los límites estrechos de un solo pueblo, y recargada de normas y ritos que le habían ido quitando la vida. La nueva sería una alianza de amor y de perdón, consumada en el sacrificio, y a esa alianza –lo dice el Señor- no se llega sino por la muerte: «Si el grano de trigo, sembrado en la tierra, no muere, queda infecundo; pero si muere, producirá mucho fruto»[1]. La muerte como prueba suprema de amor es dar la vida por el amigo… y por el enemigo. Y la vida empieza a brotar del centro mismo de esa muerte: como arranca el tallo nuevo, con fuerza inesperada, del interior de la vieja cáscara ya inútil… Pero primero hay que apurar el cáliz hasta el final; hay que tocar fondo. ¡Qué duro de aceptar es esto! Nuestra naturaleza se rebela; pide a gritos no tener que pasar por ahí; no podemos olvidar que él también tuvo miedo: «Padre ¿Por qué me has abandonado?» Es el mismo grito que resuena en tantos hospitales, que sale de la boca de tantos enfermos desahuciados… Es el misterio del dolor. El dolor inevitable. El dolor inexplicable. Es del silencio y de la oración –como las del Señor- de donde empieza a manar un venero de agua vivificante, una fuerza para confiar y para aceptar, de ahí es de donde podríamos tomar fuerzas para decir, con Jesús «No se haga mi voluntad, sino la tuya»[2]. Aun más: «A tus manos encomiendo mi espíritu»[3]. Ciertamente no es una respuesta al misterio del sufrimiento, es apenas un pequeño hilo de luz que apunta, allá lejos, diciéndonos que el largo túnel tiene un final y la pesada noche una aurora. Es algo parecido a la esperanza, que empieza a abrirse paso entre la duda. Es así, y solo así que nuestra cruz, unida a la de Él, tenga también valor redentor • AE


[1] Cfr. Jn 12, 20-33 [2] Cfr. Lc 22, 42. [3] Id 23,46.


Fifth Sunday of Lent (2021)

There are few phrases in the Gospel as challenging as the Lord’s words in the Gospel reading of this last Sunday of Lent: «Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit»[1]. Jesus’ idea is clear: with our life the same thing happens as with the grain of wheat, which has to die to release all its energy and produce fruit one day. If it does not die, it remains alone on the ground. On the contrary, if it dies, it rises again, bringing with it new grains and new life. So, the Lord hints that his death, far from being a failure, will be precisely what will give fruitfulness to his life, and at the same time he invites us Christians to live according to this paradoxical law: to give life it is necessary to die. You cannot beget life without giving your own. You cannot help living if you are not willing to go out of your way for others. No one contributes to a more just and humane world by living attached to their own well-being. No one works seriously for the kingdom of God and his justice, if he is not willing to assume the risks and rejections, the conflict and persecution that Jesus suffered. We spend our lives trying to avoid suffering and problems. The culture of pleasure and well-being pushes us to organize ourselves in the most comfortable and pleasant way possible. That’s the highest ideal! However, there are sufferings and renunciations that it is necessary to assume if we want our life to be fruitful and creative. Hedonism is not a mobilizing force; the obsession with one’s own well-being belittles people. We are getting used to living it all, closing our eyes to the suffering of others. It seems the smartest and most sensible thing to do to be happy. Well, it’s a mistake! Surely, we will be able to avoid some problems and troubles, but our well-being will be increasingly empty, boring and sterile, our religion increasingly sad and selfish and meanwhile, the oppressed and afflicted want to know if anyone cares about their pain. Christians, will we do something for them? • AE


[1] Jn 12:20-33.


Fr. Agustin’s Schedule for the Fifth Sunday of Lent (2021)

Saturday, March 20, 2021.

4.00 p.m. Sacrament of Confession 5.30 p.m. English Mass @ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.

Sunday March 21, 2021.

8.30 a.m. English Mass @ Our Lady of Grace Catholic Church (Outdoors mass)

10.30 p.m. English Mass @ Our Lady of Grace Catholic Church (Outdoors mass)

5.30 p.m. English Mass @ St. Peter Prince of the Apostles Catholic Church.


V Domingo de Cuaresma (2021)

Maestro anónimo alemán activo en Westfalia, Cristo en la Cruz como Redentor del mundo (ala derecha) (ca. hacia 1410 Tabla. 28,5 x 18,5 cm, Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza (Madrid)

A propósito del evangelio de hoy, decía San Juan de la Cruz: «No quieras enviarme ya más mensajero, que no saben decirme lo que quiero». Aquellos gentiles que se acercan a Felipe con este deseo: «Quisiéramos ver a Jesús» ¡Qué maravilloso deseo! Mucha gente no tiene claro quién fue Jesús y por qué ha tenido tanta influencia en la historia. Se preguntan por qué es tan diferente de otros personajes y qué puede aportamos en nuestros días. A mi juicio, el mejor camino para sintonizar con él es acercarse personalmente a los evangelios y conocer directamente el relato de los evangelistas. Jesús no deja a nadie indiferente. Sus palabras penetrantes, sus gestos imprevisibles, su vitalidad y amor a la vida, su confianza total en el Padre, su manera de defender a los desgraciados, su libertad frente a todo poder, su lucha contra la mentira y los abusos, su comprensión hacia los pecadores, su cercanía al sufrimiento humano, su acogida a los despreciados, su interés por hacer más digna y dichosa la vida de todos… nos ponen ante la Persona -así con mayúscula- más excepcional y más maravillosa que jamás haya existido, y suscitan un interrogante: ¿qué misterio se encierra en este Hombre? Quien se acerca a Jesucristo -y podemos hacerlo a través de la lectura diaria del evangelio- y sintoniza con él descubre todo lo que él puede aportarnos para encontrar un sentido acertado a nuestra vida, para vivir con dignidad y sensatez, y para caminar día a día movidos por una esperanza indestructible • AE