The Grace of Holy Saturday

What moves me, O God, to love you
is not the heaven you have promised me:
it is not the awesome hell
which prompts me not to offend you.
It is you who prompt me, Lord:
it is seeing you nailed on the cross and insulted,
seeing your wounded body,
it is the insults you have received and your death.
Finally, it is your love,
so that I would love you
if there wer no heaven,
and fear you
if there we no hell
You need give me nothing
for me to love you,
for even if I would not hope for what I hope,
I would still love you as I love you now.
- An anonymous Spanish writer of the sixteenth century (Magnificat)

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