Compassion testified love. He who doesn't join crying people isn't a true Christian, but a bigot. God our Father didn't remain looking at men spoiling their existence in rebellion but had pity on them and sent the apple of his eyes, his Only Child. Jesus didn't take a walk or a safari on earth but he merged into the humiliation and sorrow of the most miserable of men feeling pity for the sins and distress of everybody. Veronica is a true icon for every Christian because, out of compassion, she let herself be transfigured in the spoiled face of Christ: glorious face of every wounded man, glorious face of the Shroud, glorious face of the Resurrected, who will forever bear the marks of the thorns, nails and lance.
The slope becomes longer and longer, now the heat adds to the other difficulties, the body is exhausted and the suffering soaks every bit; however I must go on and pay for all the iniquities to get rescue. Among all these people is there anyone feeling pity for me? There is pity for a beast dragged to the slaughterhouse but in his most difficult hour the Son of man is crushed by hatred, mockeries and scorn. I'm going on, better I'm dragging myself on, between two rows of crowd excited by the desire of vengeance, the vengeance of evil over an innocent man, and the joy of his annihilation. He who has saved, treated and given life back to many people is now here covered in dust, bleeding, with a thorn crown on his head as a mark of utmost scorn, dragged like a beast to the slaughterhouse. You, beloved people who killed the prophets (Mt 23, 29-31) and didn't listen to the words of truth, are now about reaching the top of your iniquity, you are raising your arm on the Son of man hoping to destroy his light. The weight of the cross, as well as the suffering, is enormous and I proceed on, the better I can, towards the bitter and bitter chalice, well determined to drink it to the bottom. Among the crowd there is the one who listens to the voice of her heart and sees in the light of truth the lamb deemed to sacrifice and his immense suffering. Such a vision goes deep into her generous heart and she rushes near him, confronting the enraged crowd. Her pious eyes look at his sorrowful face; she would like to take me from all my suffering but her look gets lost in the ocean of the pain of the Calvary and she can do nothing. So with a loving gesture she dries the face soaked with blood and sweat: nothing more is she allowed to do. Rudely the soldiers push her away and the procession starts again up the slope, towards the place where the bitter chalice is waiting for me, and I will drink it to the bottom. Even in the hour of darkness, when evil blinds all minds, love wins: the pious woman didn't take into consideration the insults, the Pries' sentence and the fear to be punished. She listened to the voice from her heart and let herself be led by light and rushed near the suffering man, the one light came from. What a comfort, after my Mother's, I received! In this woman I could see also those who would be faithful through the ages, and those who, careless of danger, would listen to the voice of love.
Christs's Passion, a cry of love
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