We are long past Lent and Our Lord’s Passion and death - - His Resurrection and Ascension. But, in our celebration of Padre Pio’s birthday, the suffering of Jesus comes back to me strongly.

Christ knew what was in store for Him, but for Love of us, each one of us, he offered himself to wipe the slate clean, "tabula rasa," to satisfy the demands of Justice. He is Justice. - - personified. He cannot be sullied by the sins of the world. He knew the suffering and sorrow that would be His and He was ready to accept it for love of the Father and for love of us. Love and Suffering - - they seem to go hand-in-hand. When I consider them I think of Our Lord’s dear friend, Padre Pio.

If someone were to ask you about him what would you tell them? About his saintliness, yes. About His Christocentric spirituality; that Christ was the center of his life. Yes! You’d mention his devotion to the Holy Eucharist and the Sacrifice of the Mass. You’d mention his love for the other sacraments, especially the Sacrament of Penance. The "Confessor of Europe," he was called. You’d tell of his countless hours ministering to those hungry for spiritual food; Padre Pio, the dispenser of God’s Mercy. Most certainly you would tell the person about Padre Pio’s devotion to Mary, Our Blessed Mother, of his love for her and for her Rosary.

But there is something else, isn’t there! Something truly mysterious and breath-taking in its meaning - - you’d tell the person about Padre Pio’s stigmata. How he bore the wounds of Christ’s crucifixion for fifty years. You’d tell about the suffering he endured so heroically for so long. Pain that we would hesitate to accept for even a week, a day, an hour!

And most mysterious and wonderful of all, his attitude toward his pain. He welcomed it. He treasured it.

How could this be! How could he hold precious this Gift of Pain? Perhaps you have puzzled as I have about his wholehearted acceptance of pain. Maybe you have even felt uncomfortable about this aspect of Padre Pio spirituality. I had an insight into his sublime acceptance of pain. Let me share it with you.

Once upon a time, there was a young lady who lived in a small farming village in southern Italy. From the time she was a little girl, she was consumed with love for God. The one thing she wanted in life was to be totally faithful to the Great Law of Love - - Love of God and love of neighbor. So on fire was she with Love that her parents, jokingly nick-named her "Love."

One night, in her late teens, she had a puzzling dream. She heard a voice. The voice said to her: "My dear Love, if you want more than anything else to love, truly and completely love, you must go out into the world and find your twin. She said: "But, Lord, I have no twin. I’m an only child." "You have one. Go find her. Or she may find you." 

The next morning she told her parents that she had to leave for a while. They didn’t ask questions. Yet reluctantly and with some concern they watched as she packed her bag and left. 

Love went to the nearby town, rented a small room, even found herself a job as a seamstress.

A few weeks later she met a young man. It was love at first sight. He had all of the qualities one would hope for in a husband, a lover, a companion, a friend. Kind, gentle, generous, thoughtful. In time she lavished her love upon him. But also, in time, he informed her that he was not prepared to settle down. He had other things to do. He did an about face; he turned his back and walked away. 

There was no word that can explain the searing, wrenching, tearing pain that coursed through her body, mind, heart. She was almost paralyzed with grief and hurt. Weeks, months went by and the pain did not lessen. It sat in her heart like a poisonous beast. It glared at her night and day. 

Desperate for some peace and solace, she went home. Love’s parents welcomed her, of course, but they could see that something dreadful had happened to her. 

A few months later, in a fitful, restless sleep, Love had another dream. It was the same voice: "My dear Love, I see you have found your twin. Now you can love me with all your heart, but your twin, Suffering, will be with you every step of your way." And so Love and Suffering walk together hand in hand to the cross at the top of the hill.

Suffering and Love. Love and Suffering. Jesus suffered excruciating agony because of His Love for the Father, his Love for us. And we betrayed him as the young man in the story betrayed Love. And is there any hurt more painful, more emotionally, psychically crippling than rejection - - when for love’s sake we have become totally vulnerable.

That is the key, of course. In order to truly love we must put aside all our defenses. We cannot love from within a suit of armor, from behind a steel mask. To know true love takes daring because you have no protection at all. You are left defenseless before the possibility of betrayal. Christ’s love for us was true love and we betrayed Him. Then and Now. He suffered indescribable physical agony, but emotionally and spiritually he suffered the Agony of Hell itself.

That kind of suffering for the sake of Love satisfied Justice and opened for us the Gate of Paradise.

Jesus asks us to take up our crosses daily and follow him. Even a cross of pain when it is thrust upon us.

In our little booklet ("Personal Consecration to the Sacred Heart" - see our home page if you would like one) we read, "The Cross is of supreme value: That is why it costs so much. Alas! How many crosses are wasted by people, and they are such precious gems". 

Our suffering is a priceless gift to God. It is right and good that we should feel joy when we are able to offer Him the pain we feel because of Love.

God Love you,

Fr. Robert McQueeney

Fr. Robert McQueeney, 1919 - 2002
Spiritual Director
The Padre Pio Foundation of America, 1982-2002