Meditating on the Passion, I follow Jesus through his painful condemnation, and during Communion I go to meet him as he carries the Cross. It is intimate torture, seeing the wound on his shoulder where the heavy wooden cross leans. He holds me, as though I am in a dead faint from the sight of that deep and bloody gash. My pain, I hear him confide to me, is a balm to that cruel wound; my love alleviates the pain of those gashes on his holiest body. When a soul is disposed to receive the painful and intimate confidences of the heart of Jesus in his Passion, they don’t just bring great consolation and nurture the beauty of Grace, they help Jesus forget, in that instance of love, the pains that his ungrateful children cause him; they renew the sacrament of love.
I'm translating the spiritual diary of Maria Crocifissa into English. She came to Santa Marinella in 1926 and my daughter attends the convent school she built here by the sea. She, I believe, had a hand in my conversion (there's more on that in an article I wrote for The Tablet, issue of November 2nd).