We enter the week of all weeks, which narrates the man who loved beyond limits, the giver of meaningful new lives, blessed the poor and the joyful, and made people witness a glimpse of what the heavens feel like.
I look at Calvary and see a naked man, crucified and dying. Yet, a man with his arms spread wide in an embrace he will never deny. A man who never asks anything for himself, does not curse, but blesses from Calvary.
He forgets about himself and cares for women crying on the way and those dying beside him, receiving insults but keeping them in prayerful silence so they would not hurt anyone else.
The foundation of the Christian faith is the most beautiful thing in the world: an act of real selfless love. The supreme beauty of the story happens outside Jerusalem, not in the temple, but in Calvary, where the Son of God was crucified, forgiving with his last breath; he seemed punished, but he was crushing death.
The Cross is the graft of heaven within the earth, the point where eternal love penetrates time like a drop of fire.
We also feel like the women, the centurion, the thief, that in the Cross lies the supreme attraction of God, who I do not understand; but in the end, I was convinced when he gave us his spirit, allowing our lives to breathe again.
