S. Ignazio recommends the following psychological preparation during the days dedicated to the meditation on the Passion:... as soon as I'm awake, thinking where I'm going and why, summarising a bit the contemplation I want to do, according to the mystery it will be, and trying, while getting up and dressing, to feel sad and sorrowful for the great pain and suffering of Christ, our Lord. The passion went on and seemed never to end: after the terrible flagellation and the sentence, we were now walking towards Golgota. The Cross was heavy: a healthy man could have carried it but I was exhausted: out of my tortured flesh came pain, pain and pain. The thorn crown fixed on my head caused a continuous pain. It was so close on my head that its thorns tortured me. In such conditions I could hardly bear the weight of the cross. I could hardly drag my poor body, however with incredible efforts I was succeeding in.
What a large crowd along my way: the escorting soldiers could hardly control it; most of them wanted my death; the feast had begun. None of them seemed moved by pity for that being covered in blood, walking with difficulty and the most tried to hit me with sticks and fists. Hatred blinded their minds and evil was the winner among that crowd. The soldier proceeded carelessly, and brutally pushed me on my way: for them it was only a duty to accomplish in the shortest possible time.
Where were those who had been benefited from my help? Some of them where there, with many others, ready to hit me: what evil had I done to them and what was my fault? The evil hour had come and I was the victim ready for sacrifice to be blamed for everything. Not even beasts have ever been treated so cruelly by a torturer. Hatred was pleased with the suffering and innocence was not important. In that moment I felt alone, my mind totally upset by pain, exhausted and overcome by the heavy cross. Pain joined to the pain along that path that seemed not to have an end. Brutally the soldiers obliged me to stand up. I had to keep walking. Up there I was to be immolated so that everything was done. I paid for your sins on myself and I gave all the believers the gift of eternal life.
Christs's Passion, a cry of love
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The passion went on and seemed never to end: after the terrible flagellation and the sentence, we were now walking towards Golgota. The Cross was heavy: a healthy man could have carried it but I was exhausted: out of my tortured flesh came pain, pain and pain. The thorn crown fixed on my head caused a continuous pain. It was so close on my head that its thorns tortured me. In such conditions I could hardly bear the weight of the cross. I could hardly drag my poor body, however with incredible efforts I was succeeding in.
What a large crowd along my way: the escorting soldiers could hardly control it; most of them wanted my death; the feast had begun. None of them seemed moved by pity for that being covered in blood, walking with difficulty and the most tried to hit me with sticks and fists. Hatred blinded their minds and evil was the winner among that crowd. The soldier proceeded carelessly, and brutally pushed me on my way: for them it was only a duty to accomplish in the shortest possible time.
Where were those who had been benefited from my help? Some of them where there, with many others, ready to hit me: what evil had I done to them and what was my fault? The evil hour had come and I was the victim ready for sacrifice to be blamed for everything. Not even beasts have ever been treated so cruelly by a torturer. Hatred was pleased with the suffering and innocence was not important. In that moment I felt alone, my mind totally upset by pain, exhausted and overcome by the heavy cross. Pain joined to the pain along that path that seemed not to have an end. Brutally the soldiers obliged me to stand up. I had to keep walking. Up there I was to be immolated so that everything was done. I paid for your sins on myself and I gave all the believers the gift of eternal life.