Glorious Cross April 3
I planted you as my fairest vine . . . you pierced your Savior with a lance (Reproaches, Good Friday).
I answer you.
You love the Garden and you have replanted it often.
But we are the ones who are infertile:
we, Adam and Even, Israel and I.
We have sold rotten fruit in the marketplace of the world,
whose juice is bitter, whose pulp is even poisoned.
Why do you complain when we offer them to you also?
It is not precisely
to make our life fertile and sweet
that you mounted the cross?
You are the Field of Life.
Can you not excuse us
if, in the despair of our aridity,
we use the violence of the spear as a hoe?
We want to make flow from you the sap of our life.
We adore you, you who made yourself vulnerable for us
with the bittersweet price of the cross.
The forest does not become luxurious until it has water. (Mali)