Wednesday, June 5, 2019

348. The Transfiguration and the Curing of the Epileptic.

348. The Transfiguration and the Curing of the Epileptic.

3rd December 1945.

Which man has never seen, at least once, a clear dawn in the month of March? If
such a man exists, he must be very unhappy, because he is unaware of one of the
most beautiful charms of nature awakening in springtime, when she becomes the
virgin girl as creation must have been on its first day.

In such graceful charm, which is pure from every point of view, from its fresh
dewy herbs, to the little flowers that are opening, like babies who are born, to
the first smile of daylight, to the birds that awake flapping their wings and utter
their first chirps, which sound like questions and are a prelude to all their
singing conversation of the day, to the very smell of the air that during the night
has lost all pollution of dust, smoke and smell of human bodies through the
lavation of dew and the absence of man, Jesus is proceeding with His apostles
and disciples. Simon of Alphaeus is with them, too. They are going southwards,
crossing the hills that encircle Nazareth and a torrent, and are walking across a
narrow plain between the Nazarene hills and a group of mountains to the east.
These mountains are preceded by the semi-truncate cone of the Tabor, the top of
which strangely reminds me of the cocked-hat of our carabineers, seen in
profile.

They reach it. Jesus stops and says: «Peter, John and James of Zebedee will
come up the mountain with Me. The rest will spread out at its foot, going in
groups towards the roads that run along it, to preach the Lord. I want to be back
in Nazareth by evening. So do not go too far away. Peace be with you.» And
addressing the three He had called, He says: «Let us go.» And He begins to
climb without turning back any more and with such a quick pace that Peter finds
it difficult to follow Him.

When they rest for a moment, Peter, flushed and perspiring, asks Him panting:
«But where are we going? There are no houses on the mountain. On the top



there is only that old fortress. Do You want to go and preach there?»

«I would have gone up the other side. But you can see that I have turned My
back to it. We are not going to the fortress, and those who are in it, will not even
see us. I am going to be united to My Father, and I wanted you to be with Me,
because I love you. Come on, quick !»

«Oh! My Lord! Could we not go a little slower, instead, and speak of what we
heard and saw yesterday, which kept us awake all night to talk about it?»

«You always go quickly to the appointments with God. Come on, Simon Peter. I
will let you rest up there. » And He resumes climbing...

(Jesus says: «Put here the Transfiguration seen on August 5th 1944, but without
the dictation added to it. After copying the Transfiguration of last year, P.M.
will copy what I am going to show you now.»).



5th August 1944.



I am with my Jesus upon a high mountain. Peter, James and John are with Jesus.
They climb higher up and their eyes rove over open horizons, the details of
which are well defined, even in the distance, in the beautiful clear day.

The mountain is not part of a range of mountains like the one in Judaea; it rises
isolated, with the east in front, with respect to the place where we are, the north
to the left, the south to the right, and at the rear, to the west, the summit, which
is about one hundred steps higher up. It is very high and the view extends over a
very wide range.

The lake of Gennesaret looks like a strip of sky that has come down to be set in
the green of the earth, an oval turquoise enclosed by emeralds of various shades,
a mirror that trembles and ripples in a light breeze, and on which boats in full
sail glide as nimbly as sea-gulls, lightly bent towards the blue water, exactly
with the grace of the flight of a kingfisher skimming the water in search of prey.
Then a vein flows out from the vast turquoise, it is pale blue where the river-bed
is wider, and darker where the banks narrow and the water is deeper and in the
shade of the trees that grow luxuriantly near the river, nourished by its water.
The Jordan looks like an almost straight stroke of a brush in the greenery of the
plain.

Some villages are scattered here and there on both sides of the river. Some are
only a handful of houses, others are somewhat larger, with the airs of little
towns. The main roads are yellowish lines among the green. But here, on the
side of the mountain, the plain is more cultivated and fertile and it is really
beautiful. The various hues of the several growths are a most pleasant sight in
the beautiful sunshine of a very clear day.

It must be springtime, perhaps the month of March, if I take into account the
latitude of Palestine, because I see the corn, which is already high, although still
green, waving like a blue-green sea and I see the crests of the early fruit-trees
decorate this little vegetable sea with something like tiny white and rosy clouds,
and meadows strewn with the flowers of the high hay, where grazing sheep look
like piles of snow spread here and there on the green grass.

Just near the mountain, on the low short hills at its foot, there are two little
towns, one to the south and the other to the north. The very fertile plain extends
particularly and more widely to the south.

Jesus, after a short rest in the cool shade of a group of trees, a pause which He
certainly granted out of pity for Peter, who clearly has great difficulty in
climbing, resumes going up. He goes almost to the top, where there is a grassy
tableland with a semicircle of trees near the side of the mountain.

«You may rest, My friends. I am going over there to pray.» And He points to a
large stone, a rock that appears on the surface of the mountain and is not near
the slope, but it lies internally, towards the summit.

Jesus kneels on the grass and rests His hands and head on the rock, in the
posture that He will take also when praying in Gethsemane. The top of the
mountain protects Him from the sun. The remaining part of the grass-covered
clearing is in the bright sun as far as the bordering trees, where the apostles are
sitting in the shade.

Peter takes off his sandals, shakes off dust and grit and remains barefooted, with
his tired feet on the cool grass, almost lying down, with his head resting on an
emerald green tuft, as a pillow. James does the same, but in order to be
comfortable he looks for a tree, against which he leans his mantle and rests his
back. John remains sitting looking at the Master. But the calm of the place, the
fresh breeze, silence and fatigue overcome him also and he droops his head and
eyes. None of them are fast asleep, but they are in the state of summer
drowsiness that stuns people.



They (the three Apostles James, John, Peter) are roused by a brilliancy that is so
striking that it overwhelms the brightness of the sun and spreads and penetrates
even into the shade of bushes and trees where the apostles are.

They open their eyes and are astonished at seeing Jesus transfigured. He is
exactly as I see in the visions of Paradise. Of course He has no Wounds and
there is no banner of the Cross. But the majesty of His Face and Body is the
same, the brightness is also the same and His garment, too, is identical: from
deep red it has changed into a immaterial fabric of diamonds and pearls, in
which He is clad in Heaven. His face shines with an extremely intense sidereal
light in which His sapphire eyes are beaming. He looks taller, as if His
glorification had increased His height. I cannot say whether the brilliancy, which
makes even the tableland phosphorescent, emanates, entirely from Him, or
whether His own is mingled with the brightness that all the light in the Universe
and of Heaven has concentrated on Him. I can only say that it is something
indescribable.

Jesus is now standing, I would say that He is raised off the ground, because
between Him and the green meadow there is something like a luminous vapor, a
space consisting only of a light upon which He seems to be standing. But it is so
bright that I may be wrong, and in fact that I no longer see any green grass under
Jesus' feet may be due to the bright light that vibrates and waves, as is often seen
in bonfires. It is snow-white incandescent light. Jesus is looking at the sky and
smiling at a vision that enraptures Him.

The Apostles are almost afraid and they call Him, as He is transfigured so much
that He no longer appears to be their Master. They call Him: «Master, Master! »
He does not hear them. «He is in ecstasy» says Peter trembling. «I wonder what
He sees?»

The three Apostles are now standing up. They would like to approach Jesus, but
they dare not.

The light increases further because of two lights that descend from the sky and
take place at Jesus' sides. When they settle on the tableland, their veils open and
two majestic bright personages appear. One is more elderly than the other, with
a sharp severe countenance, and he has a double-pointed beard. Two horns of
light depart from his forehead and make me understand that he is Moses. The
other one is emaciated, bearded and hairy, more or less like the Baptist, whom I
would say resembles in height, leanness, structure and severity. While the light
emanating from Moses is white, like that of Jesus, particularly with regard to the
beams issuing from their foreheads, the light of Elijah is like the bright flame of
the sun.

The two Prophets take a reverential attitude before their God Incarnate and
although He speaks to them with familiarity, they do not drop their respectful
attitude. I do not understand even one of the words they speak.

The three apostles fall on their knees trembling and covering their faces with
their hands. They would like to look, but they are afraid. At last Peter says:
«Master, listen to me.» Jesus looks round smiling towards His Peter, who takes
heart again and says: «It is wonderful to be here with You, Moses and Elijah. If
You wish, we will make three tents, one for You, one for Moses and one for
Elijah, and we will stay here to serve you...»

Jesus looks at him and smiles more warmly. He looks also at John and James, a
glance that is a loving embrace. Also, Moses and Elijah stare at the three. Their
eyes flash fire. They must be like rays piercing hearts.

The Apostles dare not say anything more. Frightened as they are, they lapse into
silence. They look as if they were inebriated, like people who are bewildered.
But then a veil, which is neither fog, nor a cloud, nor a ray, envelops the Three
glorious personages behind a screen that is even brighter than the one that
surrounded the previously, and hides them from sight of the Apostles, a
powerful harmonious Voice vibrates filling the air, three bow down with their
faces on the grass.

The Voice says: «This is My beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased. Listen to
Him.»

Peter falling flat on his face, exclaims: «Have mercy on me, a sinner! It is the
Glory of God descending! !». James does not utter a single word. John whispers
with a sigh, as if he were about to swoon: «The Lord is speaking !»

Even when there is total silence again, none of them dare raise their heads. Thus
they do not even see that the light has come back to its natural state of daylight
and that Jesus is alone and has become the usual Jesus wearing His red mantle.

He walks towards them smiling, touches them and calls them by their names.
«Stand up. It is I. Be not afraid» He says, because the three dare not raise their
faces and are imploring mercy for their sins, fearing that the Lamb of God wants
to show them to the Most High. «Stand up, now. I order you» repeats Jesus
authoritatively. They look up and see Jesus smile.

«Oh! Master, my God!» exclaims Peter. «How shall we be able to live near You,
now that we have seen Your Glory? How shall we be able to live among men
and among ourselves, since we are sinners, and we have heard the Voice of
God?»

«You will have to live beside Me and see My glory until the end. Be worthy of
that because the time is close at hand. Obey My Father and yours. Let us now go
back among men because I came to stay with them and to bring God to them.
Let us go. Be holy, strong and faithful in remembrance of this hour. You will
take, part in My greater glory. But do not speak now to anybody of what you
have seen. Do not tell your companions either. When the Son of man has risen
from the dead and gone back to the glory of the Father, then you will speak.
Because it will be necessary to believe then, to take part in My Kingdom.»

«But is Elijah not to come to prepare people for Your Kingdom? So the rabbis
say.»

«Elijah has already come to prepare the way for the Lord. Everything is
happening as was revealed. But those who teach revelation do not know and do
not understand it, neither do they see or recognise the signs of the time or the
messengers of God. Elijah has come back once. He will come for the second
time when the last time is close at hand to prepare the last for God. He now
came to prepare the first for the Christ, and men refused to acknowledge him,
they tortured him and put him to death. They will do the same to the Son of
man, because men do not want to acknowledge what is good for them.»

The three lower their heads and become pensive and sad while descending the
mountain with Jesus by the same road they came up.

[3rd December 1945 continuation].

... And it is Peter again who says, while stopping halfway down: «Ah! Lord! I
also say what Your Mother said yesterday: "Why did You do that to us?", and I
also say: "Why did You tell us that?". Your last words have destroyed in our
hearts the joy of the glorious sight! This has been a great day of fear! First we
were frightened by the great light that roused us, it was stronger than if the
whole mountain had been ablaze, or the moon had descended to light up the
tableland right in front of us; then Your sight and Your rising from the ground as
if You were going to fly away. I was afraid that You, being disgusted with the
iniquity of Israel, were going back to Heaven, perhaps by order of the Most
High. Then I was frightened when I saw Moses appear, as the people of his days
could not look at him without a veil, so brightly the reflection of God shone on
his face, and he was still a man, whereas now he is a blessed spirit inflamed with
God, and Elijah... Divine Mercy! I thought I had come to my last moment, and
all the sins of my life, since the time I was a child and used to steal fruit in the
pantry, to the last one, when some days ago I gave You wrong advice, came to
my mind. And trembling with fear I repented! Then I got the impression that
those two just men were fond of me... and I dared to speak. But even their love
frightened me, because I do not deserve the love of such spirits. And then!... The
most dreadful of all fears! The voice of God!... Jehovah has spoken! He said to
us: "Listen to Him!". You! And He proclaimed You: "His Beloved Son in
Whom He is well pleased." What a fright! Jehovah!... to us!... It was certainly
Your power only that kept us alive! ... When You touched us, and Your fingers
burnt like points of fire, I had the last fright. I thought that the hour had come
when I was to be judged and that the Angel touched me to take my soul to the
Most High... But how could Your Mother see... hear... and live, in that hour that
You told us yesterday, and not die, and She was alone, a young girl, without
You?»

«Mary, the Immaculate, could not be afraid of God. Eve was not afraid, while
she was innocent. And I was there. I, the Father and the Spirit, We, Who are in
Heaven and on the earth and everywhere, and Who had our Tabernacle in the
heart of Mary» says Jesus gently.

«How wonderful!... But later You spoke of death... And our joy came to an
end... But why all that just to us three? Was it not better to give the vision of
Your glory to everybody?))

«Just because you become senseless when you hear Me speak of death, and
death by torture, of the Son of man, the Man-God decided to fortify you for that
hour and for the future, by means of the foreknowledge of what I will be after
Death. Remember all that, so that you may tell people in due time... Have you
understood? »

«Oh! yes, Lord. It is not possible to forget it. And it would be quite useless to
tell people. They would say that we are "drunk". »

They resume their way down towards the valley. But when they arrive at a
certain point, Jesus takes a very steep side path towards Endor, that is in the
opposite direction to the place where He left the disciples.

«We will not find them» says James. «The sun is beginning to set. They will be
gathering where You left them, waiting for You.»

«Come and do not worry about foolish thoughts. » In fact, where the brushwood
opens on to a grassland that slopes gently as far as the main road, they see at the
foot of the mountain the whole group of the disciples, who are very excited and
with them there are some curious wayfarers and some scribes who have come
from I do not know where.

«Alas! Scribes!... And they are discussing already !» says Peter pointing at them.
And he walks down the last few metres halfheartedly.

But the apostles down there have also seen them and they point them out to one
another and then they begin to run towards Jesus shouting: «How come, Master,
You are here? We were about to go to the appointed place. But we have been
held back by a discussion with scribes and by the entreaties of a worried father.»

«What were you discussing?))

«We were disputing about a possessed man. The scribes sneered at us because
we were not able to free him. Judas of Kerioth tried several times out of pique.
But in vain. So we said to them: "Try yourselves." They replied: "We are not
exorcisers." Some people coming from Caslot-Tabor happened to pass by and
among them there were two exorcisers. But they did not succeed either. Here is
the father coming to implore You. Listen to him.)>

A man in fact comes forward imploring and he kneels before Jesus, Who is still
on the sloping meadow and is thus at least three metres higher up than the road
and clearly visible to everybody.

The man says to Him: «Master, I went to Capernaum with my son, looking for
You. I took my unhappy son to You, that You might free him, as You expel
demons and You cure all diseases. He is often possessed by a mute spirit. When
it takes him, he can but shout hoarsely, like an animal that is choking. The spirit
throws him on the ground, where he rolls grinding his teeth, foaming like a
horse biting the bit, or he injures himself, or he risks dying drowned or burned
or smashed, because the spirit more than once has thrown him into the water, in
the fire or down the steps. Your disciples tried, but they were not successful.
Oh! Good Lord! Have mercy on me and on my child! »

Jesus blazes with majesty while He shouts: «0 wicked generation, o satanic
crowd, rebel legion, incredulous and cruel people of Hell, how long will I have
to be in touch with you? How long shall I have to put up with you?» He is so
imposing that there is dead silence at once and the sneers of the scribes stop.

Jesus says to the father: «Stand up and bring your son here.»

The man goes away and comes back with other men and in the middle of the
group there is a boy about twelve or fourteen years old. He is a handsome boy,
but looks rather dull-witted, as if he were bewildered. There is a long red wound
on his forehead and under it an old white scar. As soon as he sees Jesus Who
stares at him with His magnetic eyes, he utters a hoarse cry and his whole body
writhes convulsively and he falls to the ground foaming and rolling his eyes, so
that only the white globes can be seen, while he rolls on the ground in a typical
epileptic fit.

Jesus comes forward a few steps to be close to him and says: «How long has
that been happening to him? Speak in a loud voice, so that everybody may hear
you.»

And while the crowds press closer and the scribes go above Jesus to dominate
the scene, the man shouting says: «Since he was a boy. I told You: he often falls
on the fire, into water or down the steps or from trees, because the spirit attacks
him suddenly and throws him about to kill him. He is covered with scars and
burns. He is lucky that the flames of the fireplace have not blinded him. No
doctor, no exorciser, not even Your disciples have been able to cure him. But
You, if, as I firmly believe, can do something, have mercy on us and help us.»

«If you can believe thus, everything is possible to Me, because everything is
granted to those who believe.»

«Oh! Lord, I do believe! But if I do not believe sufficiently, increase my faith,
so that it may be complete and I may obtain the miracle» says the man weeping,
while he kneels beside his son, who has fallen into a more severe convulsive fit.

Jesus straightens Himself up, takes two steps back, and while the circle of the
crowd presses closer and closer, He shouts loudly: «Cursed spirit, who make
this boy deaf and mute and torture him, I order you: go out of him and never go
back into him!»

The boy, although lying on the ground, bounces frightfully, arches his back with
feet and head on the ground, utters inhuman cries; and after a last bounce, he
turns round, falls flat on his face striking his forehead and mouth against a large
stone emerging from the grass, which becomes stained with blood, and lies
motionless.

«He is dead!» many shout. «Poor boy!», «Poor father! » say the better ones
pitying them. And the scribes, sneering say: «The Nazarene has served you
well!», or: «Master, how come? Beelzebub has made You cut a bad figure this
time...» and they laugh spitefully.

Jesus replies to no one. Not even to the father, who has turned his son round and
is wiping the blood off the injured forehead and lips, moaning and imploring
Jesus. And the Master bends, takes child by the hand. And the boy opens his
eyes with a deep sigh, as if he were awaking from sleep, he sits up and smiles.
Jesus draws him close to Himself, makes him stand up and hands him to his
father, while the crowds cheer enthusiastically, and the scribes run away chased
by the mockery of the crowd...

«And now let us go» says Jesus to His disciples. And after dismissing the
crowds He goes round the side of the mountain towards the road along which
He came in the morning.



Jesus says:

«And here P.M. can now put the comment on the vision of August 5th 1944
(copybook A 930) beginning from the words: "I am not choosing you for the
only purpose of making you acquainted with the sadness and the sorrows of
your Master. Those who are able to stay with Me sharing My grief must share
My glory as well." And you, My faithful little John, have a rest, because you
well deserve it. May My peace bring joy to you.»



[5th August 1944 continuation].

Jesus says:

« I am not choosing you for the only purpose of making you acquainted with the
sadness and the sorrows of your Master. Those who are able to stay with Me
sharing My grief must share My joy as well.

When you are before your Jesus and He shows Himself to you, I want you to
have the same feelings of humility and repentance as My apostles had. You must
never be proud. You would be punished by losing Me. You must always bear in
mind Who I am and who you are. You must always remember your faults and
My perfection so that your heart may be cleansed by contrition. But at the same
time you must put so much trust in Me.

I said: "Be not afraid. Stand up. Let us go. Let us go among men, because I have
come to be with them. Be holy, strong and faithful in remembrance of this
hour." I say so also to you and to all My favourites among men, to those who
have Me in a special way.

Be not afraid of Me. I show Myself to you to elevate you all, not to incinerate
you.

Stand up: may the joy of the gift give you energy and do not let it blunt your
minds with the savour of quietism, considering yourselves already saved
because I have shown Heaven to you.

Let us go together among men. I have invited you to superhuman deeds by
means of superhuman visions and lessons, so that you may be of greater help to
Me. / make you partners in My work. But I have never had and I never have a
minute's rest. Because Evil never rests and Good must be always active to make
void the work of the Enemy as much as possible. We shall rest when the Time is
accomplished. Now we must proceed untiringly, we must work continuously and
sacrifice ourselves unremittingly for the harvest of God.

May My continuous contact sanctify you, may My continuous teaching fortify
you and may My fond love for you make you faithful against all snares. Do not
be like the old rabbis who taught the Revelation but did not believe in it, to the
extent of not being able to recognise the signs of the time and the messengers of
God. Ensure that you recognise the precursors of the Christ in His second
coming, because the powers of the Antichrist are on the march and, making an
exception on the limit I have imposed on Myself, because I know that you drink
in certain truths not with a supernatural spirit but out of thirst for human
curiosity, I solemnly tell you that what many people think is the victory over the
Antichrist, the peace now close at hand (WWII), will be only a pause to give the
Enemy of the Christ time to acquire new strength, to dress his wounds and
gather his army for a fiercer struggle.

Since you are the "voices" of your Jesus, of the King of kings, of the faithful
and truthful king who judges and fights with justice and will defeat the Beast
and his servants and prophets, ensure that you know what is your Good and
follow it forever. Let no false appearance entice you, let no persecution terrify
you. Let your "voices" repeat My words. Let your lives be devoted to this work.
And if on the earth you should share the same destiny as the Christ, as His
Precursor and Elijah, a sanguinary destiny or a destiny subjected to moral
torture, smile at the future safe destiny you will enjoy with the Christ, with His
Precursor and His Prophet.

We shall be equal in our work, in our grief, in our glory. Here I am the Master
and the Example. There I shall be the Reward and the King. To have Me will be
your blessedness. It will mean forgetting sorrow. It will be what no revelation is
yet sufficient to make you understand, because the joy of the future life is by far
superior to the possibility of imagination of a human creature still joined to a
human body.

612. The Morning of the Resurrection. & 613. The Resurrection.

THE GLORIFICATION

612. The Morning of the Resurrection.

1st April 1945.

1 The women resume working at the ointments, which, during the night, in the cool of
the court-yard, have become a thick pomade.

John and Peter think that they ought to tidy up the Supper-room, cleaning the tableware,
but putting everything back, as if the Supper were just over.

«He told us» says John.

«He had also said: "Do not fall asleep"! He had said: "Do not be proud, Peter. Do you
not know that the hour of the trial is about to come?" And... and He said: "You will
deny Me..."» Peter weeps again, while with deep grief he says: «And I did deny Him!»



«Enough, Peter! Now you have collected yourself. Enough of this torture !»

«No, never enough. If I should become as old as the ancient patriarchs, if I should live
the seven hundred or the nine hundred years of Adam and of his first grandchildren, I
would never cease having this torture. »

«Do you not hope in His Mercy?»

«Yes, I do. If I did not believe in that, I should be like the Iscariot: a desperate man. But
even if He forgives me from the bosom of His Father, where He has gone back, I will
not forgive myself. I! I! I who said: "I do not know Him", because at that moment it
was dangerous to know Him, because I was ashamed of being His disciple, because I
was afraid of being tortured... He was going towards His death... and I thought of
saving my life. And to save it, I rejected Him, like a woman in sin, who, after giving
birth to a child, rejects the fruit of her womb, which is dangerous to keep, before her
unaware husband comes back. I am worse than an adulteress... worse than...»

2 Mary Magdalene, attracted by their shouts, comes in. «Do not shout like that. Mary
can hear you. She is so exhausted! She has no strength left, and everything hurts Her.
Your useless unseemly shouts renew Her torture of what you have been...»

«See? See, John? A woman can order me to be quiet. And she is right. Because we, the
males sacred to the Lord, have only been able to lie or to run away. The women have
been brave. You, a little more than a woman, so young and pure you are, were able to
remain. We, the strong ones, the males, have fled. Oh! how the world must despise me!
Tell me, tell me, woman! You are right! Put your foot on my lips that lied. On the sole
of your sandal there is perhaps a little of His Blood. And only that Blood, mixed with
the mud of the road, can give the denier a little forgiveness, a little peace. I must get
accustomed to the scorn of the world! What am I? Tell me: what am I?»

«You are full of pride» replies calmly the Magdalene. «Sorrow? Also. But you must
believe that out often parts of your sorrow, five, I do not want to offend you by saying
six, five are of your sorrow of being one who can be despised. And I will really scorn
you if you continue only to moan and get into a frenzy, just like a foolish woman! What
is done is done. And no unseemly shouting can repair it or cancel it. It only serves to
draw attention and beg for undeserved pity. Be manly in your repentance. Do not shout.
Act.

3 I... you know who I was... But, when I realised that I was more despicable than vomit,
I did not fall into fits of convulsions. I acted. In public. Without being indulgent
towards myself and without asking for indulgence. Did the world despise me? It was
right. I had deserved it. The world said: "A new whim of the prostitute"? And it called
blasphemy my recourse to Jesus? It was right. The world remembered my previous
behaviour that justified such remarks. So? The world had to convince itself that the
sinner Mary no longer existed. By means of facts, I convinced the world. Do the same



612. The Morning of the Resurrection.



351



and be quiet. »

«You are severe, Mary» objects John.

«More with myself than with other people. But I admit it. I do not have the light hand
of the Mother. She is Love. I... oh! I! I lashed my feelings with the whip of my will.
And I will do so even more. Do you think that I have forgiven myself for being lustful ?
No, I have not. But I only say so to myself. And I will always repeat it to myself. I shall
die consumed with this secret regret of having been my own corrupter, with this
inconsolable sorrow of having profaned myself and not having been able to give Him
but a trampled on heart... See... I have worked more than all the others at the balms...
And with greater courage than the others I will uncover Him... Oh! God! what will He
be like now! (Mary of Magdala grows pale at the very thought of it). And I will cover
Him with fresh balms, removing those which are certainly all tainted on His countless
wounds... I will do so, because the other women will look like convolvuli after a
downpour... But it grieves me to have to do it with these hands of mine accustomed to
caressing lustfully, and to have to approach His Holiness with this stained body of
mine... I should like... I should like to have the hand of the Virgin Mother to accomplish
this last unction... »

Mary is now weeping silently, without sobbing. How different she is from the theatrical
Mary always shown to us! She is weeping noiselessly, as she did on the day of her
forgiveness in the house of the Pharisee.

4 «Are you saying that... the women will be afraid?» Peter asks her.

«Not afraid... But they will be upset seeing His Body, which is certainly already
rotten... swollen... black. And then, and this is certain, they will be afraid of the
guards. »

«Do you want me to come? With John?»

«Ha! Certainly not! We women are all going. Because, as we were all up there , so it is
fair that we should all be round His death bed. You and John will remain here. She
cannot remain alone !...»

«Is She not coming?»

«We are not letting Her come!»

«She is convinced that He will rise from the dead... What do you think?»

«I, after Mary, am the one who believes more. I have always believed that that could
be. He said so. And He never lies... Never!... Oh! before I used to call Him Jesus,
Master, Saviour, Lord... Now, now I feel that He is so great that I do not know, I dare
not give Him a name any more... What shall I say to Him when I see Him?...»



«But do you really think that He will rise?.



..»



«Another one! Oh! By dint of telling you that I do believe and of hearing you say that
you do not believe, I will end up by not believing any more myself! I have believed and
I do believe. I have believed and a long time ago I prepared a garment for Him. And
tomorrow, as tomorrow is the third day, I will bring it here, to have it ready... »

«But if you say that He will be black, swollen, filthy?»

«Filthy, never. Sin is filthy. But... of course! He will be black. So? Was Lazarus not
already putrid? And yet he rose. And his body was healed. But, if I say so!... Be quiet,
you misbelievers! My human reason says also to me: "He is dead and will not rise." But
my spirit, "His" spirit, because I have received a new spirit from Him, shouts
resounding like blares of silver trumpets: "He will rise! He will rise! He will rise!" Why
do you hurl me like a little boat against the cliffs of your doubts? I believe! I believe,
my Lord! Although torn by grief, Lazarus has obeyed the Master and has remained in
Bethany... I, who know who Lazarus of Theophilus is, a strong man, not a fearful
leveret, can appreciate the sacrifice he made by remaining in the shade and not near the
Master. But he obeyed. And by such obedience he has been more heroical than if with
weapons he had snatched Him from armed men. I have believed and I believe. And I
am staying here. Waiting like Her. But let me go. It is daybreak. As soon as there is
enough light, we will go to the Sepulchre.. .»

And the Magdalene goes away, her face flushed with weeping, but always brave.

5 She goes back into Mary's room.

«What was the matter with Peter?»

«A nervous fit. But he has got over it.»

«Do not be severe, Mary. He suffers. »

«So do I. But You know that not even once have I asked a pitying caress of You. He
has already been cured by You... On the contrary, I think that You alone, Mother, are in
need of a balsam. My holy, beloved Mother! But take heart... Tomorrow is the third
day. We shall lock ourselves in here, the two of us: His lovers. You, the holy Lover; I,
the poor lover... But I love Him as much as I can, with my whole self. And we will wait
for Him... The rest, those who do not believe, we will lock them in over there, with their
doubts. And I will put many roses here... I will have the chest brought here today... I
will go to the mansion house and I will instruct Levi. All these horrible things must
disappear! Our Resurrected Lord must not see them... So many roses... And You will
put on a new dress... He must not see You so. I will comb Your hair, I will wash Your
poor face disfigured by tears. Eternal maid, I will act as Your mother... I shall have, at
last, the joy of taking motherly care of a child more innocent than a new-born baby!



612. The Morning of the Resurrection.



352



Dear! » and with her emotional exuberance, the Magdalene presses to her breast the
head of Mary Who is sitting, she kisses and caresses Her, she tidies the light locks of
Her hair ruffled behind Her ears, with her linen dress she wipes the fresh tears that
stream down Her cheeks again, again, always...

6 The women come in with lights and amphorae and large-mouthed vases.

Mary of Alphaeus is carrying a heavy mortar . «It is not possible to stay outside. There
is a weak wind that blows out the lamps» she explains.

They place themselves on one side. They lay all their things on a long narrow table,
then they give the final touch to their balms by mixing the already heavy pomade of
essences in the mortar with a white powder, handfuls of which they take from a little
sack. They mix working with all their energy and then they fill a large-mouthed vase.
They place it on the floor. They repeat the same operation with another vase. Perfumes
and tears fall on the resins.

Mary Magdalene says: «This is not the unction that I hoped I should be able to prepare
for You.» Because it is the Magdalene who, being more skilled than the other women,
has controlled and directed the composition of the perfume, which is so strong that they
decide to open the door and leave the window ajar over the garden, which is just
beginning to appear in the early light of dawn.

They all weep more loudly after the remark made by the Magdalene in a subdued voice.

They have finished. All the vases are full.

They go out with the empty amphorae, the mortar no longer useful, and many lamps.
Two only are left in the little room and they tremble, they seem to be sobbing as well,
with the flickering of their light...

The women come back again and they close the window, because it is a rather cold
dawn. They put on their mantles and they take large sacks into which they put the vases
of the balm.

7 Mary stands up and looks for Her mantle. But they all crowd round Her convincing
Her not to come.

«You are not fit to stand, Mary. You have not had any food for two days. Only a little
water. »

«Yes, Mother, We will do it quickly and well. And we shall soon be back.»

«Be not afraid. We will embalm Him like a king. Look what precious balm we have
prepared! And how much of it!...»

«We will not neglect any part of the body or any wound and we will arrange Him



properly with our hands. We are strong and we are mothers. We will place Him like a
child in a cradle. And the others will only have to close the place.»

But Mary insists: «It is My duty» She says. «I have always taken care of Him. Only
these last three years that He was in the world, I surrendered the care of Him to other
people, when He was far away from Me. Now that the world has rejected and disowned
Him, He is Mine again. And I am once again His servant. »

Peter, who had approached the door with John, without being seen by the women, runs
away upon hearing these words. He runs to some secluded corner to bewail his sin.
John remains near the door. But he does not say anything. He would like to go as well.
But he makes the sacrifice of remaining with the Mother.

Mary Magdalene takes Mary back to Her seat. She kneels in front of Her, she embraces
Her knees raising her sorrowful loving face towards Her, and she promises: «With His
Spirit, He knows and sees everything. But with my kisses I will tell His Body Your love
and Your wish. I know what is love. I know what spur, what hunger it is to love, what
nostalgia of being with whoever is our love. And that applies also to any base love that
looks like gold, but is filth. And when she who has sinned can understand what is the
holy love for the living Mercy, Whom men did not know how to love, then she can
understand better what is Your love, Mother.

You know that I know how to love. And You know that He said so, that evening of my
true birth, on the shores of our serene lake, that Mary knows how to love much. Now
this exuberant love of mine, like water that overflows from a tilted basin, like a flowery
rosery that streams down a wall, like a flame that finding timber spreads and grows, has
poured onto Him, and from Him-Love has drawn fresh power...

Oh! my power of loving was not able to take His place on the Cross!... But what I was
not able to do for Him - to suffer, and bleed, and die in His place, amid the mockery of
all the world, happy, happy, happy to suffer in His place, and I am certain that the
thread of my poor life would have been burnt more by the triumphant love than by the
infamous scaffold, and from the ashes there would have sprung up the fresh snow-white
flower of the new virgin life, unaware of everything that is not God - all that I was not
able to do for Him, I can still do for You.... Mother, Whom I love with all my heart.

Rely on me. I, who in the house of Simon, the Pharisee, knew how to gently caress His
holy feet, now, with my soul that opens more and more to Grace, with greater gentle-
ness will be able to caress His holy limbs, to dress His wounds embalming them more
with my love, with the balm taken from my heart wrung by love and sorrow, than with
the ointment. And death will not spoil that body that has loved so much and is so much
loved. Death will flee, because Love is stronger. Love is invincible. And I, Mother,
with Your perfect love, with my total love, will embalm my King of Love.»

Mary kisses this impassioned woman who, at last, has been able to find so much



612. The Morning of the Resurrection.



353



passion, and She yields to her entreaties.

8 The women go out taking a lamp. One only is left in the room. The Magdalene is the
last to go out, after a last kiss to the Mother Who remains.

The house is all dark and silent. The road is still dark and solitary.

John asks: «Do you really not want me?»

«No. You may be useful here. Goodbye. »

John goes back to Mary. «They did not want me...» he says in a low voice.

«Do not feel mortified. They are with Jesus. You with Me. John, let us pray a little
together. Where is Peter?»

«I don't know. Somewhere in the house. But I have not seen him. He is... I thought that
he was stronger... I am suffering, too, but he...»

«He has two sorrows. You have only one. Come. Let us pray also for him.» And Mary
slowly says the «Our Father».

Then She caresses John saying: «Go to Peter. Do not leave him all alone. He has been
so much in darkness during these hours, that he cannot stand even the feeble light of the
world. Be the apostle of your lost brother. Begin your preaching with him. On your
road, and it will be a long one, you will always find people like him. Begin your work
with your companion... »

«But what shall I say?... I don't know... Everything makes him weep...»

«Mention His precept of love to him. Tell him that he who fears only, does not yet
know God sufficiently, because God is Love. And if he says to you: "I have sinned",
reply to him that God has loved sinners so much that He sent His Only-Begotten Son
for them. Tell him that we must reply with love to so much love. And love makes one
trust in the very good Lord. That trust does not make us be afraid of His judgement,
because through it we have recognised the divine Wisdom and Goodness, and we say:
"I am a poor creature. But He knows. And He gives me the Christ as guarantee of
forgiveness and as a supporting pillar. My misery is overcome by my union with the
Christ." It is in Jesus' name that everything is forgiven... Go, John. Tell him that. I am
staying here, with My Jesus.. .» and She caresses the veronica.

John goes out, closing the door behind him.

9 Mary kneels down, as She did the previous evening, face to face with the veil of the
veronica. And She prays and speaks to Her Son. While She is strong enough to give
strength to other people, when She is alone She bends under Her overwhelming cross.
And yet, now and again, like a flame no longer oppressed by the bushel, Her soul rises



towards a hope that cannot die in Her. On the contrary it grows as hours pass. And She
expresses Her hope also to the Father. Her hope and Her request.



10 (You can put here the prayer of last year, the lament of this Passover dawn, dated
21st February 1944, leaving it exactly as it is, because no change is to be made to it).



[21st February 1944]



11 «Jesus, Jesus! Are You not coming back yet? Your poor Mother can no longer put
up with the idea that You are lying dead over there. You said it, but no one understood
You. But I understood You! "Destroy the Temple of God and I will rebuild it in three
days." This is the beginning of the third day. Oh! My Jesus! Do not wait till it ends to
come back to life, to Your Mother, Who needs to see You alive in order not to die
remembering that You are dead, Who needs to see You handsome, healthy, triumphant,
in order not to die remembering You in that state in which I left You!

12 Oh! Father! Father! Give My Son back to Me! That I may see Him come back as a
Man and not as a corpse, a King, not a condemned man. Later, I know, He will come
back to You, in Heaven. But I shall have seen Him cured of so much evil, I shall have
seen Him strong after so much weakness, I shall have seen Him triumphant after
struggling so much, I shall have seen Him God after so much humanity suffered on
behalf of men. And I shall feel happy even if I lose the possibility of being near Him. I
shall know that He is with You, Holy Father, I shall know that He is forever free from
Sorrow. Now, instead, I cannot forget that He is in a sepulchre, that He is there, killed
because of all the sorrow they have given Him, that He, My Son-God, is sharing the
destiny of men in the dark of a sepulchre, He, Your Living Son.

Father, Father, listen to Your servant. Because of that "yes"... I have never asked
anything of You for My obedience to Your will; it was Your Will, and Your Will was
Mine; I did not have to exact anything for the sacrifice of My will to Yours, Holy
Father. But now, but now, for the sake of that "yes" that I said to the messenger Angel,
o Father, listen to Me!

He is now free from tortures, because He accomplished everything with the agony of
three hours after the tortures of the morning. But I have been for three days in this
agony. You can see My heart and You hear its throbs. Our Jesus said that no feather
falls off a bird without You seeing it, that no wild flower dies without its agony being
consoled by You with Your sunshine and Your dew. Oh, Father, I am dying of this
grief! Deal with Me as You do with the sparrow that You reclothe with a new feather,
and with the flower that You warm and quench its thirst in Your pity. I am dying frozen
by sorrow. I have no more blood in My veins. Once it became all milk to nourish Your



612. The Morning of the Resurrection.



354



Son and Mine; now it has all turned into tears because I have no Son any more. They
have killed Him, they have killed Him, Father, and You know how!

I have no more blood! I have shed it all with Him on Thursday night, on the sorrowful
Friday. I am as cold as one whose veins have been severed. The sun no longer shines
for Me, because He is dead, My holy Sun, My blessed Sun, the Sun born of My womb
for the joy of His Mother, for the salvation of the world. I have no more refreshment,
because I no longer have Him, the sweetest fountain for His Mother, Who drank His
Word, Who quenched Her thirst with His presence. I am like a flower in dry sand. I am
dying, I am dying, holy Father.

13 And I am not afraid to die, because He also is dead. But what will these little ones
do, the little herd of My Son, so weak, so frightened, so fickle, if there is no one to
support it? I am nothing, Father. But, by the desires of My Son, I am like a formation of
armed men. I defend, I will defend His Doctrine and His heritage as a she-wolf defends
her wolf-cubs. I, a ewe-lamb, will become a she-wolf to defend what belongs to My
Son, and consequently, what is Yours.

You have seen it, Father. Eight days ago this town stripped its olive-trees, stripped its
houses, stripped its gardens, stripped its inhabitants and became hoarse shouting:
"Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed He Who comes in the name of the Lord." And
while He was passing walking on carpets of branches, of garments, of clothes, of
flowers, the citizens pointed Him out to one another saying: "He is Jesus, the Prophet
from Nazareth in Galilee. He is the King of Israel." And while those branches had not
yet withered and their voices were still hoarse through so much singing hosannas, they
changed their cries into accusations and curses and requests for death, and of the
branches cut off for the triumph they made cudgels to strike Your Lamb, Whom they
were taking to His death. If they have done so much while He was among them and
spoke to them, and smiled at them, and looked at them with His eyes that melt hearts,
and even stones tremble when looked at by them, and He helped them and taught them,
what will they do when He comes back to You?

His disciples, You have seen them. One betrayed Him, the others ran away. He was no
sooner struck than they ran away like cowardly sheep, and they did not even stay
around Him while He was dying. One only, the youngest, remained. Now comes the
elder. But he already denied Him once. When Jesus is no longer here to watch him, will
he persist in his Faith?

I am a nonentity, but a little of My Son is in Me, and My love supplies what I lack and
annuls it. So I become something useful for the cause of Your Son, for His Church, that
will never find peace and needs to strike deep roots in order not to be uprooted by
winds. I am the one who will take care of it. Like a diligent gardener I will watch that it
grows up strong and straight in its dawn. Then I shall not be worried about dying. But I
cannot live if I remain any longer without Jesus.



14 Oh! Father, Who have abandoned Your Son for the welfare of men, and then You
have comforted Him, because You have certainly received Him on Your bosom after
His death, do not leave Me any longer in abandonment. I suffer it and offer it for the
welfare of men. But console Me, now, Father. Father, mercy! Mercy, Son! Mercy,
divine Spirit! Remember Your Virgin!»



[1st April 1945]

Later, prostrated on the floor, Mary seems to be praying with Her attitude as well as
with Her heart. She is really a poor crushed thing. She looks like that flower parched to
death of which She has spoken.

She does not even notice the shaking of a short but strong earthquake that makes the
master and mistress of the house shout and run away, while Peter and John, as white as
death, drag themselves as far as the threshold of the room. But as they see Her absorbed
in Her prayer, inattentive, unaware of what is not God, they withdraw closing the door,
and frightened as they are, they go back into the Supper room.



613. The Resurrection.

1st April 1945.

1 1 see again the joyful and powerful Resurrection of Christ.

In the kitchen garden all is silent and glittering with dew. Above it the sky is becoming
a clearer and clearer sapphire shade, after leaving its dark-blue hue studded with stars,
that through the whole night had watched over the world. Dawn is driving back, from
east to west, these still dark zones, like a wave that during the high tide advances more
and more, covering the dark beach and replacing the grey-dark shade of the damp sand
and of the reef with the blue sea water.

A few little stars do not want to die yet and peep more and more faintly through the
wave of the white greenish light of dawn, a white shaded with grey, like the leaves of
the drowsy olive-trees that form a crown on that not far away hillock. And then it is
wrecked, submerged by the wave of dawn, like land overflowed by water. And there is
a star less... And then also another one less... and another one, and another one. The sky
loses its herd of stars and only over there, to the remote east, three, then two, then one
remain to contemplate that daily wonder, which is the rising dawn.

And then, when a pink thread draws a line on the turquoise silk of the eastern sky, a



613. The Resurrection.



355



breath of wind passes over leaves and herbs and says: «Wake up. The day has risen.»
But it awakes only leaves and herbs, that shiver under their dewy diamonds and rustle
gently while the falling drops resound like arpeggios. The birds have not awakened yet
among the thick branches of a very tall cypress that seems to dominate like a lord in his
kingdom, or in the thick entanglement of a laurel hedge that shelters from the north
wind.

The guards, weary, cold, sleepy, in various postures are watching over the Sepulchre,
the stone of which has been reinforced round its edge, as if it were a buttress, with a
thick layer of lime, on the opaque white of which stand out the large rosettes of red wax
of the Temple seal, impressed with others directly on the fresh lime.

The guards must have lit a little fire during the night, because there are ashes and half-
burnt fire-brands on the ground, and they must have played and eaten, because scattered
around there are remains of food and some small clean bones, which have certainly
been used for some game, like our dominoes or our children's games of marbles, which
are played on a coarse board traced on a path. Then they became tired and left things as
they are now, and they tried to find more or less comfortable postures to sleep or to
keep watch.

2 In the clear sky, where to the east there is now a completely rosy zone, which is
spreading out more and more widely, but where, however, there are no sunbeams as
yet, a very bright meteor appears, coming from unknown depths, and it descends like a
sphere of fire of unsustainable splendour, followed by a glowing trail, which perhaps is
nothing but the persistence of its brightness in our retinae. It descends at a very high
speed towards the Earth, shedding such an intense phantasmagoric light, frightful in its
beauty, that the rosy light of dawn vanishes, outshone by such white incandescence.

The guards, astonished, raise their heads, also because with the light there comes a
mighty, harmonious, solemn rumble that fills the whole of Creation with its roar. It
comes from heavenly depths. It is the alleluia, the angelical glory, that follows the
Spirit of the Christ, which is returning to His glorious Flesh.

The meteor clashes on the useless closure of the Sepulchre, tears it off, throws it on the
ground, and it strikes with terror and noise the guards placed as jailors of the Master of
the Universe, producing with its return to the Earth a new earthquake, as it had caused
one when this Spirit of the Lord fled from the Earth. It enters the dark Sepulchre that
becomes all bright with its indescribable light, and while it remains suspended in the
still air, the Spirit is infused again into the Body motionless under the funereal
bandages.

All this takes place not in a minute, but in the fraction of a minute, so fast have been the
appearance, descent, penetration and the disappearance of the Light of God...

3 The «I want» of the divine Spirit to its cold Body is noiseless. It is uttered by the



Essence to the immobile Matter. But no word is perceived by the human ear. The Flesh
receives the order and obeys it with a deep sigh... Nothing else for some minutes.

Under the Sudarium and the Shroud, the glorious Body is recomposed in eternal beauty,
it awakes from the sleep of death, it comes back from the «nothing» in which it was, it
lives after being dead. The heart certainly awakes and gives its first throb, it propels the
remaining frozen blood through the veins and at once creates the full measure of it in
the empty arteries, in the immobile lungs, in the dark brain, and brings back warmth,
health, strength, thought.

Another moment, and there is a sudden movement under the heavy Shroud. It is so
sudden that, from the moment He certainly moves His folded arms to the moment He
appears standing, imposing, splendid in His garment of immaterial matter,
supernaturally handsome and majestic, with a gravity that changes and elevates Him,
and yet leaves Him exactly Himself, the eye has hardly time to follow the development.
And now it admires Him: so different from what the mind remembers, tidied up,
without wounds or blood, only blazing with the light that gushes from the five wounds
and issues from every pore of His skin.

4 When He takes His first step - and in the movement the rays emanating from His
Hands and Feet halo Him with beams of light: from His Head haloed with a garland,
made with the countless little wounds of the crown, but they no longer bleed but only
shine, to the hem of His tunic, when, opening His arms, that were folded across His
chest, He uncovers the zone of very bright luminosity that filters through His tunic
inflaming it like a sun at the height of His Heart - then it is really the «Light» that has
taken a body. Not the poor light of the Earth, not the poor light of the stars, not the poor
light of the sun. But the Light of God: all the heavenly brightness that gathers in one
Being and grants Him its inconceivable azure as eyes, its golden fire as hair, its angelic
whiteness as garment and complexion and all that exists, but cannot be described by
human words, the supereminent ardour of the Most Holy Trinity, that outshines with its
ardent power every fire in Paradise, absorbing Him in Itself to generate Him again at
each moment of the eternal Time, Heart of Heaven that attracts and spreads His blood,
the countless drops of His incorporeal blood: the blessed souls, the angels, everything
there is the Paradise: the love of God, the love for God, all this is the Light that is, that
forms the Risen Christ.

When He moves, coming towards the exit, and the eye can see beyond His brightness,
two most beautiful brilliances, but similar to stars compared with the sun, appear to me,
one on this side, the other on the other side of the threshold, prostrated in the adoration
of their God, Who passes by enveloped in His light, beatifying with His smile, and He
goes out, leaving the funereal grotto and going back to walk on the earth, that awakes
out of joy and shines in its dews, in the hues of herbs and roseries, in the countless
corollas of apple-trees, that open, by a wonder, to the early sun that kisses them, and to



613. The Resurrection.



356



the eternal Sun Who proceeds under them.

The guards are there, shocked... The corrupt powers of man do not see God, whereas
the pure powers of the universe - the flowers, herbs, birds - admire and venerate the
Mighty One, Who passes by in a halo of His own Light and in an aureola of sunlight.

His smile, His eyes that rest on flowers, on dead branches, that look up at the clear sky,
everything becomes more beautiful. And more soft and shaded than a silky rosery are
the millions of petals forming a flowery foam on the head of the Conqueror. And
brighter are the diamonds of the dew. And of a deeper blue is the sky reflecting His
refulgent eyes, and more joyful is the sun that with gladness paints a little cloud blown
by a light wind, that comes to kiss its King with scents stolen from gardens and with
caresses of silky petals.

Jesus raises His Hand and blesses and then, while the birds sing more loudly and the
wind carries its scents, He disappears from my sight, leaving me in a joy that cancels
even the slightest remembrance of sadness and sufferings and hesitancy for tomorrow...

273. Jesus Walks on the Water.

273. Jesus Walks on the Water.

4th March 1944.

1 It is late in the evening, almost night, because I can hardly see on the path that
climbs up a hillock studded with trees, which I think are olives. But the light is
so faint that I am not sure. The trees are not tall, but they are leafy and twisted,
characteristically olive.

Jesus is alone. He is wearing a white tunic and a dark blue mantle. He climbs
and enters the grove. He is striding resolutely. He is not walking fast, but as He
strides, He goes a long way without rushing. He walks until He reaches a kind of
natural balcony overlooking the lake, which is peaceful and quiet in the light of
the stars already crowding the sky like bright eyes. Silence surrounds Jesus with
its restful embrace. It detaches Him from the crowds and from the earth, making



Him forget them and uniting Him to the sky, which seems to descend to worship
the Word of God and caress Him with the light of its stars.

He is praying in His habitual posture: standing with His arms stretched out
crosswise. There is an olive-tree behind Him and He seems to be already
crucified to its dark trunk. Tall as He is, the leafy branches are only a little
above Him and they replace the inscription on the Cross with a word consonant
to the Christ. There: « King of the Jews ». Here: « Prince of Peace ». The
peaceful olive-tree speaks the truth to those who can understand it. He prays for
a long time. He then sits at the foot of the tree, on a thick protruding root, and
assumes His habitual attitude with His hands interlocked and His elbows resting
on His knees. He meditates. I wonder into which conversation He falls with His
Father and the Spirit, now that He is alone and can be entirely of God. God with
God!

1 think that many hours go by thus because I see that stars have changed their
position and many have already set in the west.

2 Just when the appearance of light, or rather of luminosity, because it cannot be
called light as yet, becomes visible on the remote eastern horizon, a puff of wind
shakes the olive-tree. It calms down. It resumes blowing and is stronger and
becomes more and more violent at short intervals. The light of dawn, which has
just begun, finds it difficult to make its way because of a mass of dark clouds,
which have invaded the sky, driven by stronger and stronger gusts of wind. The
lake is no longer calm either. I think it is preparing a storm like that I already
saw in the vision of the tempest. The noise of the leafy branches and the roar of
the water now fill the air, which a little while ago was so calm.

Jesus is roused from His meditation. He stands up and looks at the lake. He
scans it in the light of the remaining stars and of the poor sickly dawn and sees
the boat of Peter, which is striving hard to reach the opposite shore, but cannot
make it. Jesus pulls His mantle tight around Himself, lifting over His head, as if
it were a hood, the hanging hem, which would hinder His descent, and runs
down, not the road He came up, but a very steep path, which takes one straight
to the lake. He runs so fast that He seems to be flying.

When He reaches the shore lashed by the waves, which leave on the shingle an
edge of fluffy rustling foam, He continues to walk fast, as if He were treading
not on a restlessly tossing liquid element, but on the smoothest most solid
pavement on the earth. He now becomes light. All the faint light that still comes
from the few dying stars and the stormy dawn seems to converge on Him,
gathering like phosphorescence round His slender body. He flies over the waves,
the foamy crests and the dark folds between the waves, with His arms stretched
forward, while His mantle swells around His cheeks and flaps as much as
possible, tight as it is around His body, like a wing.

3 The apostles see Him and utter a cry of fear, which the wind carries towards
Jesus.

« Be not afraid. It is I. » Jesus' voice, although the wind is against Him, carries
clearly over the lake.

« Is it really You, Master? » asks Peter. « If it is You, tell me to come and meet
You, walking on the water like You. »

Jesus smiles: « Come » He says simply, as if to indicate that to walk on the
water were the most natural thing in the world.

And Peter, half naked as he is, that is wearing only a short sleeveless tunic,
jumps overboard and walks towards Jesus.

But when he is about fifty yards from the boat and as many from Jesus, he is
seized with fear. So far his love impetus supported him. Now his human nature
overwhelms him and... he fears for his own skin. Like one who is on a slippery
ground, or better still, on quicksands, he begins to stagger, to grope, to sink. And
the more he gropes and fears, the more he sinks.

Jesus has stopped and looks at him. He is serious and waits. But He does not
stretch even one hand; His arms are folded and He does not take one step or
utter one word.

Peter is sinking. His malleoli, shins, knees disappear. The water reaches up to
his inguen, rises above it, up to his waist. Terror is on his face. Terror paralyses
also his thoughts. He is nothing but flesh afraid of sinking. He does not even
think of swimming. Nothing. He is hebetated by fear.

4 At last he decides to look at Jesus. And as soon as he looks at Him, his mind
begins to reason and see where salvation is. « Master, my Lord, save me. »

Jesus opens His arms and as if He were carried by the wind or by the waves, He
rushes towards the apostle and holds out His hand saying: « Oh! what a man of
little faith. Why did you doubt Me? Why did you want to do it by yourself? »



Peter who had clutched convulsively at Jesus' hand, does not reply. He looks at
Him only to ascertain whether He is angry, with a mixture of remaining fear and
rising repentance.

But Jesus smiles at him and holds him firmly by the wrist, until they reach the
boat and step overboard into it. Then Jesus orders: « Go to the shore. He is
soaked through. » And He smiles looking at the mortified disciple.

The waves smooth down making it easy to land and the town seen in the past
from the height of a hill now looms beyond the shore.

The vision ends here.



5 Jesus says:



« Many times I do not even wait to be called, when I see My children in danger.
And many times I rush to help a son who is ungrateful to Me.

You are asleep or you are seized by the worries and anxieties of life. I watch and
pray for you. I am the Angel of all men and I look after you and nothing grieves
Me more than the impossibility of interference because you refuse My
intervention, because you prefer to act on your own, or, worse still, you ask the
Evil one to help you. Like a father who hears his son say to him: "I do not love
you. I do not want you. Go out of my house", I am mortified and I suffer more
than I did because of My wounds. But if you do not say to Me: "Go away", and
you are absent-minded only because of the worries of life, then I am the Eternal
Watchman ready to come even before he is called. And if I wait for you to say a
word, as I sometimes do, it is only to hear you call Me.

How pleasant, how sweet it is to hear men call Me. To hear that they remember
that I am the "Saviour." I will not mention the infinite joy that pervades and
exalts Me when there is someone who loves Me and calls Me without being in
need. He calls Me because he loves Me more than he loves anybody else in the
world and is filled with joy, as I am, only by calling: "Jesus, Jesus", as children
call: "Mummy, mummy" and they taste the sweetness of honey on their lips,
because the simple word "mummy" has in itself the taste of motherly kisses.

6 The apostles were rowing obeying My order to go and wait for Me at
Capernaum. And I, after the miracle of the loaves, went away from the crowds,
all alone, not because I disdained them or because I was tired. I never disdained
men, not even when they were bad to Me. I became indignant only when I saw
the Law trampled or the house of God desecrated. But then the interests of the
Father were involved, not I. And I was on the earth as the first of the servants of
God, to serve the Father of Heaven. I was never tired in devoting Myself to the
crowds, even when I saw them so dull, sluggish and human as to dishearten even
those who had most confidence in their mission. Nay, just because they were so
deficient I multiplied My lesson infinitely, I treated them exactly as backward
pupils and I guided their spirits in the most elementary discoveries and initia-
tions, just as a patient master guides the inexpert hands of pupils to form the first
letters and thus enable them to understand and write. How much love have I
given to crowds! I took them by the flesh to lead them to the spirit. I began from
the flesh as well. But while Satan through it leads to Hell, I led to Heaven.

I wanted to be all alone to thank the Father for the miracle of the loaves.
Thousands of people had been fed. And I exhorted them to say: "Thanks" to the
Lord. But once a man has been helped, he forgets to say "thanks." I said it on
their behalf. And afterwards... And afterwards I had merged with My Father, for
Whose love I was infinitely sick. I was on the earth, but like a lifeless hide. My
soul was thrust towards My Father, Whom I felt leaning on His Word, and I said
to Him: "I love You, Holy Father!." It was a joy to Me to say to Him: "I love
You." To say so as a Man besides as God. I humiliated My feelings as Man, as I
offered Him My palpitation as God. I seemed to be the magnet that attracted all
the love of men, of men capable of loving God a little and that I gathered all
such love and offered it from the bottom of My Heart. I seemed to be the only
one to exist: I, the Man, that is the human race, conversing once again with God,
in the cool of the evening, as on the innocent days.

7 But although My blessedness was complete, because it was a blessedness of
love, it did not abstract Me from the needs of men. And I became aware of the
danger of My children on the lake. And I left Love for the sake of love. Charity
must be speedy.

They took Me for a ghost. Oh! how often, My poor children, you take Me for a
ghost, for a frightening object! If you always thought of Me, you would know
Me at once. But you have other ghosts in your hearts, and that makes you dizzy.
But I make Myself known. Oh! if you only listened to Me!

8 Why was Peter sinking after walking so far? You said it: because his human
nature overwhelmed his spirit.



Peter was very much a "man." Had it been John, he would not have dared
immoderately, neither would he have changed his mind. Purity grants prudence
and strength. But Peter was "man" in the full meaning of the word. He was
anxious to excel, to show that "nobody" loves the Master as he does, he wanted
to impose himself, and only because he was one of Mine, he thought he was
above the weakness of the flesh. Instead, poor Simon, his results, when he was
tested, were far from being sublime. But it was necessary, that he might be later
the one who was to perpetuate the mercy of the Master in the dawning Church.

Peter is not only overwhelmed by fear for his endangered life, but, as you said,
he becomes nothing but "trembling flesh." He no longer thinks, he no longer
looks at Me. You all do the same. The more impending is the danger, the more
you want to do things by yourselves. As if you were able to do things! You
never go away from Me, or close your hearts to Me or even curse Me, as in the
hours when you ought to hope in Me and call Me. Peter does not curse Me. But
he forgets Me and I have to impose My will to call his spirit to Me, so that he
may look at his Master and Saviour.

I absolve him beforehand of his sin of doubt, because I love him, as this
impulsive man, once he is confirmed in grace, will be able to proceed without
any further perturbation or tiredness as far as martyrdom, and will be
indefatigable in casting his mystical net to take souls to his Master. And when
he invokes Me, I do not walk, I fly to help him and I hold him tight to lead him
to salvation. My reproach is a mild one because I understand the extenuating
circumstances of Peter. I am the best advocate and judge there is and there has
ever been. On behalf of everybody.

9 I understand you, My poor children! And even when I say a word of reproach,
My smile mitigates it. I love you. That is all. I want you to have faith. And if
you do have it, I will come and take you out of danger. Oh! if the Earth could
say: "Master, Lord, save me!." One cry, of the whole Earth, would be enough,
and Satan and his sectarians would be immediately defeated. But you do not
know how to have faith. I am multiplying the means to lead you to faith. But
they fall into your slime as a stone falls into the slime of a marsh and are buried
there.

You do not want to purify the water of your souls, you prefer to be putrid filth.
It does not matter. I do My duty as the Eternal Saviour. And even if I cannot
save the world because the world does not want to be saved, I will save from the
world those who in order to love Me, as I am to be loved, are no longer of the
world. »

588. Jesus Enters into Jerusalem.

588. Jesus Enters into Jerusalem.

30th March 1947 (Palm Sunday).

1 Jesus says: «You will put here the vision: "From Bethany to Jerusalem" (dated 3rd
March 1945). And now: look!»


2 Jesus embraces with His arm the shoulders of His Mother, Who has stood up when
John and James of Alphaeus have reached Her to say to Her: «Your Son is coming»,
and then they have come back to join their companions who are proceeding slowly,
talking, while Thomas and Andrew have rushed towards Bethphage to look for the
donkey and the colt and take them to Jesus.

In the meantime Jesus is speaking to the women. «Here we are near the city. I advise
you to go. And go without being afraid. Enter the town before I do. All the shepherds
and the most faithful disciples are near En Rogel. They have been told to escort and
protect you.»

«The fact is that. . . We have spoken to Aser of Nazareth and Abel of Bethlehem in
Galilee and also to Solomon. They had come as far as here to watch for Your arrival.
The crowd is preparing a great celebration. And we wanted to see. . . See how the tops
of the olive trees are shaken? It is not the wind that is shaking them thus. But it is the
people who are gathering branches to spread them on the road and to protect You from
the sun. And over there?! Look over there, they are stripping the palm-trees of their fan-
shaped leaves. They look like clusters and they are men who have climbed up the
trunks to gather more and more. . . And, on the slopes, You can see children bending to
pick flowers. And the women certainly strip gardens of corollas and scented herbs to
strew Your way with flowers. We wanted to see. . . and imitate the gesture of Mary of
Lazarus, who picked up all the flowers pressed by Your feet when You went into
Lazarus' gardens» says imploringly Mary of Clopas on behalf of them all.

Jesus caresses the cheek of His old relative, who looks like a little girl anxious to see a
show, and He says to her: «You would not be able to see anything among the large
crowd. Go on, to Lazarus' house, the one whose keeper is Matthias. I shall be passing
there and you will see Me from on high.»

«Son. . . and are You going all alone? Can I not be near You?» asks Mary, raising Her
very sad face and staring with Her sky-blue eyes at Her meek Son.

«I would beg You to remain hidden. Like a dove in the cleft of a rock. Rather than Your
presence, My beloved Mother, I need Your prayer !»

«If so, Son, we will all pray for You.»

«Yes. And after you have seen Him pass by, you will come with me to my mansion in
Zion. And I will send servants to the Temple, with instructions to follow the Master all
the time, so that they may bring us His orders and His news», says Mary of Lazarus
resolutely, always quick in realising what is the best thing to do and to do it without
delay.

«You are right, sister. Although it grieves me not to follow Him, I understand that it is a
just order. In any case Lazarus told us not to contradict the Master in anything, and to
obey Him even in the least matters. And we will do that.»

«Go, then. See? The roads are getting busy. The apostles are about to join Me. Go.
Peace be with you. I will make you come when I think it is a suitable moment.
Goodbye, Mother. Peace to you. God is with us.» He kisses Her and dismisses Her.
And the obedient women disciples go away quickly.


3 The ten apostles join Jesus. «Have You sent them ahead?»

«Yes, I have. They will see My entry from a house.»

«From which house?» asks Judas of Kerioth.

«Eh! the friendly houses are so many now!» says Philip.

«Not from Annaleah's?» says the Iscariot insisting.

Jesus replies in the negative and He sets out towards Bethphage, which is not far.

He is near the village when the two apostles, who had been sent to get the donkey and
the colt, come back. They shout: «We found what You told us and we would have
brought the animals. But the owner wanted to curry them and adorn them with the best
trappings to honour You. And the disciples, with those who have spent the night in the
streets of Bethany to honour You, wish to have the honour of bringing them to You,
and we agreed. We thought that their love deserved a reward. »

«You did the right thing. Let us go on in the meantime. »

«Are there many disciples?» asks Bartholomew.

«Oh! a great crowd. It is impossible to pass along the streets in Bethphage. That is why
I told Isaac to take the donkey to Cleanthes, the cheese-monger» replies Thomas.

«You acted rightly. Let us go as far as that rising of the hill, and we shall wait a little in
the shade of those trees. »

They go to the place pointed out by Jesus.

«But we are going farther away! You are going beyond Bethphage passing round the
back!» exclaims the Iscariot.

«And if I want to do so, who can forbid Me? Am I perhaps already a prisoner and not
allowed to go where I want? Or is it urgent that I should be so, and is anybody afraid
that I may avoid being captured? And if I should decide to go away along safer routes,
is there anybody who could prevent Me from doing so?» Jesus darts a glance at the
Traitor, who dare no longer open his mouth and shrugs his shoulders, as if to say: «Do
as You like.»

They go, in fact, round the back of the little village, I should say a suburb of the town,
as its western side is really not far from the town, being part of the slopes of the Mount
of Olives, which surrounds the eastern side of Jerusalem. Farther down, between the
slopes and the town, the Kidron is shining in the April sunshine.

Jesus sits down in the green silent place and concentrates on His thoughts. He then
stands up and goes towards the rising, stopping just at its edge.



4 Jesus says: «You will put here the vision of 31st July 1944: "Jesus weeps over
Jerusalem", from the sentence that I gave you as the beginning of the vision. » He then
resumes showing me the phases of His triumphal entry.



30th July 1944.



5 I do not know how I shall manage to write because I am suffering so much from heart
trouble that I can hardly sit up. But it cannot be helped. I must write what I see.

The Gospel of today, the ninth Sunday after Pentecost, is illustrated to me.

From a hill near Jerusalem Jesus looks at the town stretched at His feet. It is not a very
high hill. At most it is like the large square of S. Miniato on the mountain, at Florence;
but it is sufficient for the eye to dominate the extent of houses and streets, that go up
and down the small ground elevations forming Jerusalem. If one refers to the lowest
level of the town, this hill is certainly much higher than Calvary, but it is closer to the
walls than the latter. It really begins just outside the walls and rises steeply on their
side, whereas on the other side it descends gently towards a very green country that
stretches eastwards. At least I think it is eastwards, if I am judging rightly according to
sunlight.

Jesus and His apostles are sitting under a group of trees, in the shade. They are resting
after a long walk. Then Jesus stands up, He leaves the clearing where they were sitting
and He goes towards the hillock and stops just at its edge. His tall person stands out
clearly in the empty space around Him. He looks even taller as He stands upright, all
alone. His arms are folded across His chest, on His blue mantle, and He looks around
very seriously.

The apostles watch Him. But they leave Him alone, they neither move nor speak. They
must think that He has moved aside to pray.

But Jesus is not praying. After looking for a long time at the town, at each district, at
each hillock, at each detail, at times letting His eyes dwell upon this or that point, at
times watching less insistently, Jesus begins to weep without sobbing or making any
noise. Tears fill His eyes, then gush forth and stream down His cheeks and fall. . . Silent
very sad tears. The tears of a man who knows that he must weep, all alone, without
hoping to be consoled or understood by anybody. Tears brought about by grief that
cannot be cancelled and must be suffered absolutely.

6 Because of his position John's brother is the first to notice those tears and he tells the
others, who look at one another and are seized with astonishment.

«None of us has done anything wrong» says one, and another: «The crowds did not
insult us either. Among them nobody was hostile to Him». «Why is He weeping, then?»
asks the oldest of them all.

Peter and John stand up together and they approach the Master. They think that the only
thing to be done is to make Him feel that they love Him and ask Him what the matter is
with Him. «Master, are You weeping?» asks John laying his fair-haired head on the
shoulder of Jesus, Who is taller than he is by a neck and a head. And Peter, laying his
hand round Jesus' waist, almost embracing Him to draw Him to himself, says to Him:
«What is grieving You, Jesus? Tell us who love You.»

Jesus rests His cheek on John's fair-haired head and opening out His arms, He passes
His arm round Peter's shoulder. The three of them are thus embraced to one another in
such a loving posture. But tears continue to drop.

John feels them run down through his hair and he asks once again: «Why are You
weeping, Master? Are we perhaps the cause of Your sorrow?»

The other apostles have gathered round the loving group and are anxiously awaiting a
reply.

7 «No» says Jesus. «Your are not. You are My friends and friendship, when it is
sincere, is a balm and a smile, never tears. I would like you to remain My friends
forever. Even now that we shall enter into the corruption, that ferments and
contaminates those who are not resolutely willing to remain honest. »

«Where are we going, Master? Are we not going to Jerusalem? The crowds have
already greeted You joyfully. Do You want to disappoint them? Are we going to
Samaria to work some miracle? Just now that Passover is close at hand?» The questions
are asked by several of the apostles at the same time.

Jesus raises His hands imposing silence and then with His right one He points to the
town. A wide gesture like that of a man sowing seeds ahead of himself. And He says:
«That is the Corruption. We are going into Jerusalem. We are going there. And only the
Most High knows how I would like to sanctify the town taking there the Holiness that
comes from Heaven. I would like to resanctify it, as it should be the Holy City. But I
shall not be able to do anything for it. It is corrupt, and will remain corrupt. And the
streams of holiness that gush from the living Temple, and will gush even more in the
next few days to the extent of leaving it lifeless, will not be sufficient to redeem it.
Samaria and the heathen world will come to the Holy One. The temples of the true God
will be erected on the false temples. The hearts of the Gentiles will worship the Christ.
But this people, this town will always be hostile to Him, and their hatred will lead them
to the greatest sin. 8 That must happen. But woe to those who will be the instruments of
that crime. Woe! ...» Jesus stares at Judas, who is almost in front of Him.



ready to die for You.» Judas lies shamelessly and meets Jesus' eye without
embarrassment. The others join in protesting.

Jesus replies to all of them, avoiding to reply to Judas directly.

«Would to Heaven that you may be so. But you are still very weak, and temptation may
make you like those who hate Me. Pray fervently and watch diligently over yourselves.
Satan is aware that he is about to be defeated and he wants to avenge himself by tearing
you away from Me. Satan is around us all. He is around Me to prevent Me from doing
the will of My Father and from fulfilling My mission. And he is around you to make
you his servants. Be vigilant. Within those walls Satan will take those who are not
strong. He will take him whose curse will be the fact that he was elected, because he
made use of his election for a human purpose. I chose you for the Kingdom of Heaven,
not for that of the world. Bear that in mind.

9 And you, o city, that want your ruin and over which I am shedding tears, be aware
that your Christ is praying for your redemption. Oh! if at least in this hour still left to
you, you came to Him Who would be your peace! If in this hour you understood the
Love passing through you and you divested yourself of the hatred that makes you blind
and insane, and cruel against yourself and your welfare! But the day will come when
you will remember this hour! But it will be too late to weep and repent! The Love will
have passed and disappeared from your streets, and the Hatred that you preferred will
remain. And Hatred will be on you and on your children. Because one has what one
wanted, and hatred is paid with hatred. And then it will not be the hatred of the strong
against the defenceless, but it will be hatred against hatred, thus war and death.
Surrounded by trenches and armed men, you will languish before being destroyed, and
you will see your children killed by weapons and famine, and the survivors taken
prisoners and derided, and you will ask for mercy, but will never find it, because you
refused to acknowledge your Salvation. I am weeping, My friends, because I have the
heart of a man, and the ruin of My fatherland makes Me shed tears. But it is just that
this takes place because within those walls corruption exceeds all limits and draws the
punishment of God. Woe betide the citizens who bring about the ruin of their
fatherland! Woe betide the leaders who are the main cause of it! Woe betide those who
should be saints to guide the others to be honest and instead they desecrate the House of
their ministry and themselves! Come. My action will be of no avail. But let us make the
Light shine once again in the Darkness !»

And Jesus goes down followed by His apostles. He walks fast along the road with a
serious countenance, I would say, almost looking sullen. He speaks no more. He goes
into a little house at the foot of the hill, and I see nothing else.



«That will never happen to us. We are Your apostles and we believe in You, and we are


[30th March 1947]

10 Jesus has hardly had time to enter into the house blessing its inhabitants, when the
joyful sound of harness-bells and jubilant voices are heard. And immediately afterwards
the lean wan face of Isaac appears in the opening of the door, and the faithful shepherd
enters and prostrates himself before his Lord Jesus.

Many faces are crowding in the frame of the wide-open door, and many more can be
seen behind them. . . They push and throng, wishing to come forward. . . Some women
shout, some of the children cry, caught as they are in the crowd, while the others shout
greetings and joyful exclamations: «This is a happy day which brings You back to us!
Peace to You, Lord! We welcome You, Master, as You have come back to reward our
loyalty. »

Jesus stands up and makes a gesture meaning that He is going to speak. Everybody
becomes silent and Jesus' voice is heard clearly. «Peace to you! Do not press together.
We shall now go up to the Temple. I have come to stay with you. Peace! Peace! Do not
hurt yourselves. Make way, My beloved friends! Let Me come out and follow Me,
because we shall enter into the Holy City together. »

Willy-nilly the people obey, and they open out a little so that Jesus can come out and
mount the little donkey. In fact Jesus points to the little colt, which had never been
ridden before, as His mount, and then some rich pilgrims, who elbow their way through
the crowd, lay their sumptuous mantles on its back, and one man kneels down with one
knee on the ground and the other placed as a step for the Lord, Who sits on the back of
the colt. And the journey begins with Peter walking on one side of the Master and Isaac
on the other, holding the reins of the unbroken animal, which proceeds calmly, as if it
were accustomed to that task, without becoming restive or being frightened by the
flowers that, thrown as they are towards Jesus, often strike the eyes or the soft muzzle
of the little colt, that is not even scared by the branches of olive-trees and palm leaves
shaken in front of and around it, or are thrown on the ground to form a carpet with the
flowers. It is not even frightened by the shouts of «Hosanna, Son of David! », that are
becoming louder and louder as the crowd becomes larger and larger with the arrival of
newcomers.

11 It is not easy to pass through Bethphage, along its narrow twisted streets, and
mothers are compelled to take their children in their arms, and men have to protect their
women from being pushed too violently, and some fathers carry their little sons astride
their shoulders, so that they are above the crowd, while the shrill voices of the children
sound like the bleatings of lambs or the screeching of swallows, while with their little
hands they throw the flowers and leaves of olive-trees, offered to them by their
mothers, as well as kisses, to mild Jesus. . .

After leaving the narrow passage of the little suburb, the procession stretches out in an
orderly manner, and many volunteers go ahead leading the way and keeping it clear,
and others follow them strewing the ground with branches. And when a man throws his
mantle on the road as a carpet, hundreds of people imitate him. Thus the central part of
the road is a multicoloured strip of garments spread on the ground and once Jesus
passes by, they are picked up and carried ahead with many more, while flowers,
branches and palm-leaves are waved and thrown, and louder cries are uttered around
and in honour of the King of Israel, of the Son of David and His Kingdom!

The soldiers on duty at the gate come out to see what is happening. But it is not a
sedition and they move to one side, leaning on their lances, and looking amazed or
ironical they watch the strange procession of this King Who is riding the colt of a don-
key, and is as handsome as a god, as humble as the poorest of men, meek, blessing. . .
surrounded by women and children and by disarmed men shouting: «Peace! Peace !», of
this King Who, before entering the town, stops for a moment near the sepulchres of the
lepers at Hinnom and Siloam (I think I am mentioning the correct names of these
places, where I have seen lepers being cured miraculously on other occasions) and
pressing on the only stirrup in which His foot is resting, as He is sitting side-saddle on
the donkey, but not astride it, He stands up, stretches out His arms, shouting in the
direction of those dreadful slopes (where frightened faces and bodies appear, looking
towards Jesus, and they utter the plaintive cry of lepers: «We are infected! » to send
away some imprudent people who, in order to see Jesus better, would climb even the
contaminated and infected terraces): «Let those who have faith in Me invoke My Name
and receive health from it!» and setting out again He blesses them and He says to Judas:
«You will buy food for the lepers and take it to them with Simon before it gets dark.»

12 When the procession enters under the vault of the Siloam Gate and then, like a
torrent, pours into the town through the Ophel suburb - where every terrace has become
a little airy square crowded with people singing hosannas, throwing flowers and
pouring perfumes in the street, trying to throw them on the Master, and the air is filled
with the scent of flowers crushed under the feet of the crowds and with essences that
spread in the air before falling among the dust of the street - the cheers of the crowd
seem to increase and become louder, as if each person shouted in a bugle-horn, because
the many archivolts, of which Jerusalem is full, amplify them with continuous echoes.

I can hear them shout, and I think they mean what the Evangelists say: «Shalem,
Shalem melchil!» (or malchit: I am trying to give the sound of the words, but it is
difficult, because they have aspirations which we do not have). A continuous howl, like
the roar of a stormy sea, in which the loud noise of a billow pounding on beaches and
cliffs has not yet dropped, when another breaker collects it and raises it with a fresh
roar, without ever stopping. I am deafened by it!

Perfumes, scents, shouts, waving of branches and garments, colours, cries... It is a
bewildering scene.

I see the people in the crowd getting mixed up continuously, and known faces appear
and disappear: all the disciples from all the places in Palestine, all the followers. . . I see
Jairus for a moment, and Jaia, the youth from Pella (I think), who was blind like his
mother and was cured by Jesus, I see Joachim from Bozrah and the peasant from the
plain of Sharon with his brothers, I see lonely old Matthias from a place near the
Jordan, on the eastern bank, where Jesus took shelter when the place was all flooded, I
see Zacchaeus with his converted friends, I see old John from Nob with almost all the
citizens, I see the husband of Sarah from Juttah. . . But who can cope with faces and
names, if it is a kaleidoscope of known and unknown faces, seen several times or only
once?. . . Now there is the face of the little shepherd brought from Enon. And, near him,
is the disciple from Korazim who did not bury his father to follow Jesus; and close to
him, for a moment, the father and mother of Benjamin from Capernaum with their son,
who almost falls under the hooves of the little donkey when he throws himself forward
to receive a caress from Jesus.

13 And - unfortunately - there are faces of Pharisees and scribes, livid with rage
because of this triumph, and they overbearingly elbow their way through the circle of
love that is pressing round Jesus and they shout to Him: «Make these mad people keep
quiet! Make them reason! Hosannas are to be sung to God only. Tell them to be quiet! »

And Jesus replies to them kindly: «Even if I told them to be silent and they obeyed Me,
the stones would extol the wonders of the Word of God. »

In fact the people - in addition to shouting: «Hosanna, hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is He Who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna to Him and to His
Kingdom! God is with us! The Immanuel has come. The Kingdom of the Christ of the
Lord has come! Hosanna! Hosanna from the Earth to the highest Heaven! Peace! Peace,
my King! Peace and blessings to You, holy King! Peace and glory in Heaven and on the
Earth! Glory to God for His Christ! Peace to the men who know how to welcome Him.
Peace on Earth to men of good will and glory in the highest Heaven, because the hour
of the Lord has come» (and this last cry is uttered by the whole group of the shepherds
who are repeating the Christmas song) - in addition to these uninterrupted cries, the
people of Palestine inform the pilgrims from the Diaspora of the miracles they have
seen, and to those who do not know what is happening, because they are strangers
passing by chance through the town and ask: «But who is He? What is happening?))
they reply: «He is Jesus! Jesus, the Master from Nazareth in Galilee! The Prophet! The
Messiah of the Lord! The Promised, the Holy Messiah!»

From a house, which has just been left behind as in so much confusion the procession is
moving very slowly, comes out a group of strong young men carrying above their heads
copper braziers full of charcoal and incense, which burn spreading clouds of scented
smoke. Their gesture is well liked, and many run ahead or return to their houses, to get
fire and scented resins to burn and thus pay homage to the Christ.



14 Annaleah's house appears. The terrace is decked with vines the new leaves of which
are quivering in the mild April wind, and along the street side there is a full row of girls
dressed in white and wearing white veils, in the middle of them there is Annaleah, with
baskets of plucked petals of roses and lilies of the valley, that are already flying about
in the air.

«The virgins of Israel are greeting You, Lord!» says John, who has pushed through the
crowd and is now beside Jesus, drawing His attention to the garland of purity, which is
leaning out of the parapet smiling and strewing the street with petals as red as blood and
with lilies of the valley as white as pearls.

Jesus draws rein for a moment and stops the colt. He looks up and raises His hand to
bless that virginity in love with Him to the extent of forgoing all other earthly love.

And Annaleah leaning forward shouts: «I have seen Your triumph, my Lord! Take my
life for Your universal glorification! » and with a very loud cry, as Jesus passes close to
her house and proceeds, she greets Him: «Jesus!)>

And another but different cry exceeds the clamour of the crowds. But although the
people hear it, they do not stop. It is a torrent of enthusiasm, a torrent of delirious
people that cannot stop. And while the last waves of this torrent are still outside the
gate, the first ones are already beginning to climb the slopes leading to the Temple.

«Your Mother! » shouts Peter, pointing at a house almost at the corner of a street that
leads up to the Moriah and along which the procession begins to pass. And Jesus looks
up to smile at His Mother, Who is up there among the faithful women.

15 The obstacle of a large caravan stops the procession a few metres after it has passed
the house. And while Jesus stops with the others, caressing the children that mothers
hold up to Him, a man rushes towards Him, elbowing his way through the crowd and
shouting: «Let me pass! A woman has just died. A young girl. All of a sudden. Her
mother is invoking the Master. Let me pass! He already saved her once!»

The people make room and the man runs towards Jesus and says: «Master, Eliza's
daughter is dead. She greeted You with that cry, then she bent backwards saying: "I am
happy" and she breathed her last. Her heart was overwhelmed by the great joy in seeing
Your triumph. Her mother saw me on the terrace of the house next to hers and she sent
forme. Come, Master !»

«Dead! Annaleah dead! Was she not healthy, blooming and happy up to yesterday?»
The apostles and the shepherds throng together excitedly. Everybody saw her yesterday
in perfect good health. Only a little while ago they saw her rosy and smiling. . . They
cannot understand such a misfortune. . . They ask questions, they inquire about details. . .

«I don't know. You have all heard her words. She spoke in a loud voice, sure of herself.



588. Jesus Enters into Jerusalem.



206



Then I saw her lean backwards, and she was whiter then her dress and I heard her
mother shout. . . I know nothing else.»

«Do not be excited. She is not dead. A flower fell and the angels of God picked it up to
take it to Abraham's bosom. The lily of the Earth will soon open happily in Paradise,
ignoring the horror of the world forever. Man, tell Eliza not to weep over the lot of her
daughter. Tell her that she was granted a great grace by God, and that in six days' time
she will understand what grace God granted her daughter. Do not weep. Let no one
weep. Her triumph is even greater than Mine, because the angels are escorting the
virgin to lead her to the peace of the just. And it is an eternal triumph that will increase
in degree without ever knowing failure. I solemnly tell you that you have reason to
weep over yourselves, not over Annaleah. Let us go.» And He repeats to the apostles
and to those around Him: «A flower has fallen. It lay down in peace and the angels
picked it up. Blessed is the girl pure in flesh and heart, because she will soon see God.»

«But how did it happen, what did she die of, Lord?» asks Peter who cannot believe it.

«Of love. Of ecstasy. Of infinite joy. A happy death!»

Those who are far ahead are unaware, those who are far behind are also unaware. So
the hosannas continue even if here, around Jesus, people have become pensively silent.

It is John who breaks the silence saying: «Oh! I should like to have the same lot before
the future hours !»

«I, too» says Isaac. «I should like to see the face of the girl who died of love for
You...»

«I beg you to sacrifice your wishes to Me. I need you near Me. . .»

« We will not leave You, Lord. But is there no consolation for that mother?» asks
Nathanael.

«I will see to that. . .»

16 They are at the gates of the enclosure of the Temple. Jesus dismounts from the little
donkey that is taken into custody by a man from Bethphage.

It is necessary to bear in mind that Jesus did not stop at the first gate of the Temple, but
He went round the enclosure, and He stopped only at the northern side, near the
Antonia. That is where He dismounted and went into the Temple, as if He wished to let
people see that He was not hiding from the ruling powers, feeling that He had always
behaved in an innocent way.

The first court of the Temple shows the usual uproar of moneychangers and vendors of
doves, sparrows and lambs, with the only difference that the vendors have been left
alone, because everybody has gone to see Jesus. And Jesus enters, solemn in His purple
garment, and He looks around at the market and at a group of Pharisees and scribes,
who are watching Him from a porch.

His eyes are flashing with anger. He rushes to the centre of the court. An unexpected
leap that looks like a flight. The flight of a flame, because His garment is as bright as a
flame in the sunshine flooding the court. And in His voice as powerful as thunder He
says: «Away from the house of My Father! This is no place for usury or markets. It is
written: "My house will be called the house of prayer." So why have you turned into a
robbers' den this house, in which the Name of the Lord is invoked? Go away! Leave
My House clean. That it may not happen to you, that instead of using ropes, I may
strike you with the thunderbolts of heavenly wrath. Go away! Get out, you thieves,
swindlers, lewd people, murderers, impious persons, idolaters of the worst idolatry, that
of one's proud ego, corrupters and liars. Out! Get out! Or the Most High God, I warn
you, will sweep away this place for good and will take vengeance upon all the people. »
He does not repeat the lashing of the last time, but seeing that the merchants and
money-changers are slow in obeying, He goes to the nearest bench and turns it over
spreading scales and money on the ground.

The vendors and money-changers make haste and carry out Jesus' order, after
witnessing the first example. And Jesus shouts after them: «And how many times shall
I have to say that this must not be a place of filth, but a place of prayer?» And He looks
at those of the Temple who, obeying the orders of the Pontiff, do not make any gesture
of reprisal.

17 After cleansing the court, Jesus goes towards the porches where blind, paralytic,
mute, crippled and other sick people are gathered and are invoking Him at the top of
their voices.

«What do you want Me to do for you?»

«My sight, Lord! My limbs! That my son may speak! That my wife may recover her
health. We believe in You, Son of God! »

«May God hear you. Rise and sing hosannas to the Lord!»

He does not cure the many sick people one by one. But He makes a wide gesture with
His hand, and grace and health descend from it upon the poor wretches, who stand up
completely cured with cries of joy that mingle with those of the many children, who are
pressing against Him repeating: «Glory, glory to the Son of David! Hosanna to Jesus of
Nazareth, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords !»

Some Pharisees, with feigned deference, shout to Him: «Master, do You hear them?
These children are saying what is not to be said. Reproach them! That they may keep
quiet !»

«Why? The king prophet, the king of My stock, did he not say: "You made the perfect
praise flow from the mouths of children and sucklings to confuse Your enemies"? Have
you not read these words of the psalmist? Let children sing My praises. They are
prompted to sing them by their angels, who see My Father incessantly and are aware of
His secrets, which they suggest to these innocents. And now let Me go and pray the
Lord» and, passing in front of the people, He goes into the court of Israel to pray. . .

Later, coming out through another gate, going along the Sheep Pool, He leaves the town
and goes back to the hills of the Mount of Olives.

18 The apostles are full of enthusiasm. . . The triumph has given them confidence, they
have completely forgotten all the terror that the words of the Master had aroused in
them. . . They are speaking of everything. . . They are dying to have news of Annaleah.
With difficulty Jesus prevents them from going, assuring them that He will provide and
He knows how to do so. . . They turn a deaf ear to every divine advice. . . They are truly
men, and a cry of hosanna makes them forget everything. . .

Jesus speaks to Mary of Magdala's servants, who had joined Him at the Temple, and
then He dismisses them. . .

«And where are we going now?» asks Philip.

«To Mark of Jonas' house?» says John.

«No. To the field of the Galileans. Perhaps My brothers have come and I should like to
greet them» says Jesus.

«You will be able to do that tomorrow» Thaddeus points out to Him.

«It is better to do things while they can be done. Let us go to the Galileans. They will be
pleased to see us. You will have news of your families. I shall see the children. ..»

«And what about this evening? Where shall we sleep? In town? Where? Where Your
Mother is? Or at Johanna's?» asks Judas Iscariot.

«I do not know. Certainly not in town. Perhaps under some Galilean tent again. . .»

«But why?»

«Because I am the Galilean and I love My Fatherland. Let us go.»

They set out again, going up towards the field of the Galileans, which is on the Mount
of Olives towards Bethany, and is all covered with white tents shining in the pleasant
April sun.

[30th July 1944]

19 Jesus says:

«The scene described by Luke seems incoherent, almost illogical. I feel sorry for the
misfortunes of a guilty town, but I do not feel sorry for the habits of that town. No. I am
not able, I cannot feel sorry for them, because it is just those habits that bring about
their misfortunes; and seeing them makes My sorrow deeper. My anger with the
desecrators of the Temple is the logical consequence of My meditation on the
forthcoming misfortunes of Jerusalem.

It is always the profanation of the cult of God, of the Law of God that provokes the
punishments of Heaven. By turning the House of God into a robbers' den, those
worthless priests and those worthless believers (only such by name) were drawing
malediction and death on all the people. It is useless to give this or that name to the
misfortunes that make a people suffer. Look for the right name in this: "Punishment for
living like brutes." God withdraws and Evil advances. That is the result of a national
way of living undeserving to be named Christian.

As in the past, also now, in the short period of this century, I have not ceased shaking
and warning people by means of prodigies. But as in the past, I did nothing but draw
mockery, indifference and hatred upon Myself and My means. But individuals and
nations ought to bear in mind that they weep in vain, when beforehand they did not
want to acknowledge their salvation. In vain they invoke Me when, while I was with
them, they drove Me away with a sacrilegious war that starting from individual
consciences, devoted to Evil, spread throughout the Nation. Fatherlands are not so
much saved with weapons as they are by means of a form of life that may attract
protection from Heaven.

Rest, little John. And make sure you are always faithful to your election. Go in peace. »

How tired I am! I am really exhausted. . .