We are in this Holy Week, that is, holy, consecrated, in the midst of a devastating common suffering that forces us to seek more urgently that unattainable presence of God who is love and who cares and watches over us.

The most amazing thing about Christianity is that Jesus, the human manifestation of God, is a human being without power, who was killed by the political and religious powerful of that time, whom no one defended when they tried him, and whom people, people whom he healed, whom he moved with his words and found in them a reason to live, thirsty for meaning and hope, they watched him from afar, not daring to approach his tormentors or join those who called for his death. And not just any death, death on the cross, dislocated, broken, stripped, exposed to mockery and scorn. There were his students, those who were the core of his love and care, with whom he lived, ate, laughed and commented on events, were his friends. His life ended in complete failure.

Even today, 21 centuries later, people recognize themselves in that person, kiss his feet, cry his tears which are also his, are moved by his sufferings which they recognize as their own and follow the pictures that represent him pulling the chains. , crosses, dressed in cones and purple sacks, willing to follow him and experience in some way what he suffered. In an attempt to get closer and seek comfort and understanding for his daily tragedies and worries, those that, like what happened to Jesus, left him alone, devastated, without horizons and without life.

But if today we celebrate and remember his presence, it is not because of his failure, there is a lot of that in the world, it is because of the outpouring of love that was the engine of his existence and which today erupts violently in the present in which we live.

And people today, 21 centuries later, recognize themselves in that person, kiss his feet, cry tears…

The love that turned death into victory. A demanding, lucid, complete love that accepted the consequences of its words, its actions, its intentions. The love that turned darkness into light, death into life, sadness into joy. A love that spans centuries and reaches us transformed through generations and millions of human lives that have embraced its light as a fabric that supports the framework of the deepest aspirations of human beings for freedom, solidarity, love and devotion. Love that is the hidden root that sustains the tree of human adventure in this stardust in which we live.

Love that, in the bosom of a modest family, in an almost unknown city in a country occupied by battalions of the enemy’s army, like yeast in dough, transformed the reality of people, everyone, poor, rich, religious or not. , women. , children, old people, strangers, fallen and healthy, who were not the same since that meeting. A love that turned words into a deed that was neither objectionable nor objectionable. Love that worked and permeated his entire being and actions.

It is Jesus whom we celebrate today not as a memory, looking back, but as the heart of our hearts, who moves us, transforms us and sustains us to change this world of violence and death. The last word in the world and in our lives is love. (OR)