By Plinio Correa de Oliveira
Finally the apex of all pains is reached. It is a summit so high that it is lost in the clouds of mystery. The physical pains having reached their limits, the moral sufferings having attained their zenith, a mysterious torment must be the climax of such an inexpressible pain, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" In a certain mysterious way, the Word Incarnate Himself was afflicted by that spiritual torture of abandonment in which the soul receives no consolations from God.
Such was this torment that He of Whom the Evangelists record not a single word of pain uttered that piercing cry, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?"
Yes, why? Why did this happen if He was Innocence itself? This terrible abandonment was followed by death and the perturbation of all of nature. The sun was darkened. The sky lost its splendor. The earth quaked. The veil of the temple was rent in two. Desolation covered the whole universe.
Why? To redeem man. To destroy sin. To open the gates of heaven. The height of suffering was the height of victory. Death was put to death. The purified earth was like a great field that had been cleared so that the Church might be built on it.
All of this, then, was to save, to save men, to save this man who I am. My salvation was purchased at such a price. I will spare myself no sacrifice to secure that precious salvation. By the Water and the Blood that came forth from Thy Divine Side, by the Wound of Thy Heart, by the sorrows of Mary Most Holy, grant me O Jesus, the strength to detach myself from the persons and things that can separate me from Thee. Today they die, nailed to the Cross, all the friendships, all the affections, all the ambitions, all the delights that have separated me from Thee.