A Triduum Journey of Transformation

By Daniel Castellanos
During this Lenten journey, the Laudato Si’ Movement has invited us into something deeper than a season—it has been a path of return. A return to the heart: that sacred inner space where contemplation, discernment, and action are no longer separate, but become one.
Guided by the theme “Returning to the Heart,” and inspired by Dilexit Nos, we have been gently reminded that caring for our Common Home begins not with strategies, but with transformation—an inner restoration that allows us to see, feel, and respond differently.
Looking back, we can recognize five invitations that have shaped this time of grace:
- On Ash Wednesday, we learned from the guayacán tree that to withstand drought, we must send down deep roots. The invitation was to return to the heart to discover that true strength lies not in appearance, but in the secret connection with the Living Water.
- On the First Sunday, Jesus in the desert taught us to discern our desires. Faced with the temptation of consumption and power, we rediscovered that true freedom is born when the heart chooses the greater good and adopts a sustainable lifestyle.
- On the Second Sunday, in the Transfiguration, we understood that contemplation transforms our gaze. By listening to Christ, our eyes are opened to see creation not as a resource, but as a sacrament, impelling us toward a profound ecological education.
- On the Third Sunday, alongside the Samaritan woman, we recognized our own thirst and that of our brothers and sisters. We understood that responding to the cry of the poor requires us to step out of indifference and build communities where no one is treated as a project, but as a friend.
- On the Fourth and Fifth Sundays, the light restored to the blind man and the life rescued from Lazarus called us to courageous action. We saw that community resilience and the care for life require unbinding the shackles that oppress the Earth and the vulnerable, trusting that God continues to call forth life from the midst of death.
This journey has gently revealed to us that ecological conversion is, at its deepest level, a conversion of the heart. Not a surface change, but an inner reordering—where the heart becomes more integrated, more attentive, more capable of discerning, and more open to compassion and courageous love. It is this kind of heart that becomes fertile soil, where true transformation can take root and grow.
Now, as we stand on the threshold of Easter, we recognize within ourselves a quiet but real change. We carry a heart that is less fragmented and more whole. A heart that listens more closely to the groaning of creation and the cries of the most vulnerable. A heart that is more available—to love freely, to respond concretely, and to give without measure.
The desert is now behind us, but it has not left us unchanged. In its silence, something within us has shifted. Like a seed that has fallen into the earth and surrendered, we too have begun to let go—trusting that this hidden dying is already making space for new life to emerge.
And so, we find ourselves ready—not only to celebrate the Resurrection, but to embody it. To live it. To become signs of that new life in a world that longs for healing.
As you continue this journey, do not leave these graces behind. Return to the resources that have accompanied you along the way—the reflections on the heart, the video meditation, the ecological examen, and the Ecological Way of the Cross. Revisit them slowly. Let them continue to shape your prayer, your daily choices, and your relationship with our Common Home.

Because the journey to the heart does not end with Lent—it unfolds into a way of living, a way of seeing, a way of loving.
A question to carry into the Triduum:
What concrete fruit of this return to the heart am I willing to offer in the celebration of the Resurrection?





