Mary’s greatness springs from Her divine Motherhood; and, since She is the Mother of Christ, who is the Head of the Mystical Body, She is also the Mother of each and every one of His members.

In my tabernacle I have everything, because the infinite All is the transcendent mystery that conceals my tabernacle. If man knew the secret of the Eucharist, how would he not come to cool his thirst and to satiate his hungers, reverent and adoring, at the foot of the tabernacle before the God of the Sacrament…?!

What a Saturday of such glorious triumph! in which the soul of God’s Only Begotten Son, who at the same time is the Son of Man, opens by the fruit of His Redemption the sumptuous Gates of Eternity, closed since the earthly Paradise by the sin in rebellion of our First Parents; and the old floodgates are raised before the impetuous passing of irresistible power of the soul of God’s immolated Only Begotten Son, in triumph of glory.

"I want you to live this Holy Week not from memory, but from reality! I want you to live not like the one who is remembering that Jesus was with us, but rather you have to take in this Holy Week - Christ’s Holy Week - the Week of Christ’s Passion, the Week of death and crucifixion...! you have to take that time, and live it in your own time now! and stand at the foot of the cross, and live with Christ, and die with Christ, and rise with Christ! and suffer with Christ, and be immolated with Christ, and be shattered with Christ! and stay with all your spirit open to receive His testament of love, to receive His infinite gift, to receive all that demonstration of Infinite Love for you...!"

In an overflow of tear and desolation of a frightful and terrifying loneliness owing to the rejection of the Father against the sin which, carrying on His shoulders, being the Christ, He had to repair for in and by the plenitude of His Priesthood, as Reconciler of man with God, “He cried with a loud voice, ‘My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me…?’ ”

Thank you, Lord, for the greatness of the mystery You enclose...! Thank you for making me a tiny Echo of your contents, even though for this my spirit may live, in each of the moments of my life, on heaven on earth and on exile in my redemption, which is deep and torn victimization in neglect, in self-surrender of loves and in need of response...

I hate sin; I abhor it and detest it with my whole being; but, because the sinner was created by God, made in His likeness to partake of Him and to rejoice in Him, I love the sinner with my whole soul. And all of me, full of compassion, cries out: “Son, come to the Fount of Life, where by means of the Sacraments you will be able to partake of the living God, and thereby to emerge out of this death in which you find yourself, so that you can be happy here and in Eternity, giving to God the glory that He expected from you...!”

Consecrated soul, predestined, chosen and pampered to be, in the bosom of the Church, salt of life that, in spiritual fatherhood or motherhood, as a herald of love, might be poured out on other souls...

O, Church of mine! all-beautiful, bedecked with Divinity Itself that penetrates You, fills You, en-nobles You, extolling You with such fruitfulness, that You, Church of mine, are the selfsame Word Incarnate Who comes forth from the Father’s bosom breaking into Word and burning in the Holy Spirit. That is your Royal Head, my Church!