Jesus is it any wonder they killed you that Friday.
You called the better people a breed of vipers,
You told them that their hearts were black sepulchers with fine exteriors,
You chose the decaying lepers,
You spoke fearlessly with unacceptable strangers,
You ate with notorious sinners,
and you said that streetwalkers would be the first in Paradise.
You got on well with the poor, the bums, the crippled.
You belittled the religious regulations.
Your interpretation of the Law reduced it to one little commandment: to love.
No wonder they avenged themselves.
No wonder they took steps against you;
No wonder they approached the authorities, and beg them to get rid of you.
I too shall be condemned.
I am afraid.
They are already singling me out.
Several of my friends are about to drop me.
Lord, I am afraid to let go of the world,
And yet, Jesus, I know that you are right.
Help me to fight,
Help me to speak,
Help me to live your Gospel
To the end,
To the following of the Cross.