“He humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:8)

This verse from St. Paul unveils the very heart of our faith: the radical, self-emptying love of Christ, made visible in His obedience to the point of death. The Catechism reminds us that “by his obedience unto death, Jesus inaugurated the kingdom of heaven on earth” (CCC 541), and in that act, “transformed the curse of death into a blessing” (CCC 1009). Death, once the ultimate sign of defeat, has become through Christ the doorway to life, love, and eternal communion with God. His surrender has opened for us the path to salvation, not by escaping suffering, but by transforming it from within.

This week we celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. We do not venerate the Cross as a symbol of failure, but as the throne from which Christ reigns. Lifted up, pierced, and mocked, He becomes victorious, not through strength as the world sees it, but through love that endures to the end. On Monday, we remember Our Lady of Sorrows, who stood beneath that Cross in perfect solidarity. Mary did not turn away from the suffering of her Son. She embraced it, offering her own “yes” in quiet fidelity. In her, we see how love can endure even the deepest sorrow and, in union with Christ, become redemptive.

This mystery of redemptive suffering- the transformation of pain into love- is also at the heart of the witness of Chiara Lubich, founder of the Focolare Movement. During a retreat in the summer of 1949, as she meditated deeply on Christ’s cry from the Cross, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”  It was there that Chiara received what she called the key to unity, the discovery that Jesus in His moment of abandonment was not simply a man broken by suffering, but the God-Man who chose to enter the darkest place of human experience out of love. She wrote, “I have only one Spouse on earth, Jesus Forsaken… I’ll go through the world searching for him in every instant of my life.” For Chiara, every sorrow, division, or difficulty became a chance to meet Him again, to listen to what He wanted to say through the painful circumstances of life, and to love Him there.

Chiara’s insight became the foundation of a global movement. She taught that Jesus Forsaken is present in every division, every conflict, every moment where love seems absent. And yet, precisely there, in the pain we wish to avoid, He waits for us. Chiara believed that by loving Him in those forsaken places, unity could be born, not only between individuals, but across cultures, generations, and even churches. Unity does not come from avoiding the Cross, but from walking through it with love.

This week, as we lift high the Cross and contemplate Mary’s sorrow, let us follow Chiara’s path. Where in our lives do we experience isolation, division, or suffering? In those very places, let us meet Jesus Forsaken. Let us love Him there. And in doing so, may we discover what Chiara did: that this crucified love is the key not only to our personal holiness, but to the healing and unity of the world.