"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mt. 27: 46)
If there is a common, mysterious element in our lives, it is suffering. We all want to avoid suffering, but, sooner or later, we all experience it.
It comes in many forms: from a simple headache that seems to affect even our tiniest daily activities to the heartache when a son has taken the wrong path; from a failure on the job to a car accident that brings death to a close friend or relative; from the humiliation of a low exam grade to the anguish produced by war, terrorism and natural disasters.
We often feel powerless in the face of suffering. Even those people who are close to us and who love us are frequently unable to help us find a solution; and yet, at times it is enough that someone shares it with us, perhaps in silence.
This is what Jesus did: he drew close to every man and every woman to the point of sharing in every aspect of each one's life. He did even more: he took on himself every one of our sufferings and made himself suffer with us, to the point of shouting out:
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon when Jesus let out this cry towards heaven. For three long hours he had been hanging on the cross with his hands and feet nailed to it.
Up to that point he had lived his short life in one continuous act of self-giving: he healed the sick and raised the dead, he multiplied the loaves of bread and forgave sinners, and he gave to all words of wisdom and of life.
Moreover, while on the cross, he forgave those who crucified him, he opened the gates of heaven to the good thief, and then gave his body and blood for us, after having already given it to us in the Eucharist. Finally he cried out:
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
But Jesus did not let himself be overcome by suffering; rather, through a kind of divine alchemy, he transformed it into love, into life.
In fact, at the very moment when he seemed to experience an infinite distance from the Father, he made an enormous and incredible effort to believe in his love and to abandon himself to God totally: "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk. 23: 46).
In re-establishing unity between heaven and earth, Jesus opened the gates to the Kingdom of God for us; he gave us full status as children of God, and made us brothers and sisters to one another.
It is the mystery of death and life that we celebrate during these days of Easter, of resurrection.
It is the same mystery that was experienced in all its fullness by Mary, the first disciple of Jesus. At the foot of the cross she too was called "to lose" what she held most dear, her son, God. But in that moment, precisely because she accepted God's plan, she became the Mother of many children, our Mother.
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
Through his infinite suffering, the price of our redemption, Jesus made himself one with us in all things, taking onto himself our fatigue, disappointments, moments of confusion, and failures, and he did this to teach us how to live.
Since he took on all these sufferings, all the divisions and traumas of humanity, I can say that, wherever I see suffering in myself or in my brothers and sisters, I see Jesus. Every physical, moral or spiritual suffering reminds me of him; each carries his presence, each discloses one of the countenances of his suffering.
Then I am able to say: "In this suffering, I can love you, Jesus forsaken. It is you who are coming to me in this suffering that you have made your own. I want you, and I embrace you!"
If we then swiftly move on and start to love, respond to his grace, want what God wants in the next present moment, live for him, and we will often find that the suffering disappears. This is because love brings about the gifts of the Spirit: joy, light, and peace. Shining in us is the Risen Lord.