Let us enter with joy into the season of Lent: a return to the depths of our hearts within. A time of truth, of listening, of inner simplicity, a time of mercy. A time of returning to God.
The Triduum – “He loved them to the end”
At the heart of the Triduum, we are led to the foot of the Cross. There is no longer any path to follow. There are no more words to seek.
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Everything is here. A man given over. A body offered.
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A life given to the very end.
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“There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for those one loves.” This word, heard at the threshold of these days, we now see fulfilled. Not in glory, but in humility. Not in strength, but in self-giving. Christ does not withdraw. He does not come down from the Cross. He remains. And this is how He loves.
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To the very end.
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Before the Cross, we could remain on the outside. Watching, without being touched. But little by little, something is asked of us. Not to understand, but to consent. To consent to letting this Cross touch our own lives. Within us, there are places we do not want to pass through—places of poverty, weariness, and wounds. Places where we still resist. And it is there that Christ remains. He does not wait for everything to be at peace. He comes to dwell in what is fragile, closed, unfinished.
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Good Friday does not ask us to be strong. It calls us to be present. To remain where we are, without fleeing, without defending ourselves, without turning away.
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Perhaps in a very bare faith. Perhaps without light. But with this humble trust that love is there, even when everything seems lost. For on the Cross, nothing is held back. Everything is given. And in this total gift, a passage opens—one we do not yet see.
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Brothers and sisters, let us remain.
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Let us remain at the foot of the Cross.
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Let us remain in this silence.
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Let us remain in this self-giving love.
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Without seeking to grasp,
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but allowing, little by little,
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this love to reach us
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and transform us.