If we look for an instant beyond the stupid rattle of what was left in us as feasts of God, we see that a constant of the life of Jesus Christ, our Saviour was the suffering and persecutions from people.
Kept in the womb in secret, He, the most precious Treasure of eternity.
Born from Virgin Mary in secret because of the fear of the vigilantes of the dead Torah
Rejected by the ugly world even in the moment when He was born.
Sleeping on straw, warmed at the most pure bosom in a cold cave, near some donkeys and sheep.
Taken out from the cradle of love for the fear of death brought by Herod the terrible tyrant.
Carried and shook on an ass through the desert of Egypt, foreign in a foreign country.
In coldness, in the freezing nights near Sinai.
A fugitive in pagan cities. Returned to Nazareth among strangers.
Rejected by the cities where He entered. Persecuted by cunning Pharisees and hypocrite scholars.
Raising people from death and followed by thousands but constantly humiliated by some wretched people.
Chased out from synagogues, offended by rabbies, betrayed by disciples, left alone in Gethsemane.
Alone at Pilates, alone at Herod, alone on the Cross, humiliated by a robber, ridiculed ny the hyenas who could not bear the wounds of His death. Going to Emmaus as the only foreigner from Jerusalem who did not know a thing about Jesus. Listening to Cleopas as he related to Him about the Cross and His Death. It was good it was dark and the poor disciples did not see the tears of the One who created the skies. They don`t see how the wounds from His hands open out of the pain to keep silent and listen how they did not understand His Sacrifice.
And the miracle of Resurrection which many do not understand, do not wish and do not feel.
A life of suffering for the Creator of the world. And everything because He loved us boundlessly and descended to our hell to raise us up to the lost heaven.
A life of suffering for love.
