There are no ranks among the victors over death for libertines, religious freethinkers, and those who value pride and power over meekness, humility and love. Those who raise the banner of triumph, adorned with everlasting life, do so by the saving death of Christ.
My daughter, . . . I desire that the Feast of Mercy be a refuge and shelter for all souls, and especially for poor sinners. On that day the very depths of My tender mercy are open.
When the chief priests and officers cried out, “Crucify him, crucify him” (Jn 19:6), they called for Jesus to die the most abhorrent type of death known to the world at that time. Over the years, Romans crucified thousands of men. Each “miserable procedure,” as Josephus called it, was as terrifying and brutal as the next.
Holy Week. I’m not ready. Not sure I have the strength. Not sure if I’m ready to think about more sacrifices. And I don’t want to think about the suffering you went through, Lord Jesus.
Do you believe in miracles? I do. Those little miracles that occur during times of seeming hopelessness, that bring sudden renewal out of the ashes and a faith transcending and never-ending, the evergreen story of the Good News and the hope of the Resurrection.