Friday is a day when we think of Jesus facing death. We transport our minds back to his final days, trying to feel what it felt like for him. We try imagining him wrenching his soul from his body. We picture him saying goodbye to that life Joseph and Mary had nourished so lovingly.
He had the foresight to feel it all. Pilate would hand him over to the soldiers to make fun of him. They would weave him a crown from thin thorn branches. They would laugh their heads off as they bowed deep before him before spitting.
At thirty three, with his gasping breaths struggling to hold off death, what did to take for him to make a gift of his life?
At Mass I imagine him making the gift of his young life as the culmination of the Last Supper. That’s what Eucharist means. It is his Pleasing Gift of himself.
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