It is so easy to distance myself from the Cross.
It is so easy to separate my sins from the sins of those who were in the crowd, calling for Christ's death. It is easy to pass of my role in Our Lord's Passion as an inactive or indirect one. Yet I play a very real, very direct role in His suffering and Death.
It was all because of me, and my sins. It is an uncomfortable reality to face. It's painful and so I shy away from admitting that I am as at much at fault as those who lined the streets of Jerusalem and cheered as Jesus dragged His heavy cross up Calvary.
And still, there is hope. Not only was His passion because of me, it was for me. He gave His life for me. He wanted to save me and redeem my soul. His heart bled with love. For me.
There is no way that I can ever repay Him, but in His mercy He does not ask me to. He gives love and salvation to me freely, and without hesitation.
I don't deserve it, and I can never deserve it. Still, He whispers to me from the cross where He hangs in agony,
"I love you."
