45. Jesus Is Baptised in the Jordan.

45. Jesus Is Baptised in the Jordan.

3rd February 1944, at night. 

I see a bare, flat country, without any villages or vegetation. There are no 

cultivated fields, but a few odd plants are growing here and there in clusters, like 

vegetable families, where the deep soil is less parched. Imagine that the arid 

waste land is on my right-hand side, with my back turned to the north, and the 

harsh area stretches southwards. 

On my left instead, 1 can see a river with very low banks, flowing slowly from 

north to south. The very slow flowing water makes me understand that there are 

no falls in the level of the riverbed and that it flows in such a flat country as to 

form a depression. The movement of the water is just sufficient to avoid the 

formation of marshes. The river is so shallow that the bottom can be seen: I 

would say the water is a metre deep, or a metre and a half, at most. It is as wide 

as the river Amo in the S. Miniato-Empoti area: about twenty metres. However, 

I am not good at estimating. And yet its color is blue with a light green hue near 

the banks, where on the humid soil, there is a strip of thick green vegetation, 

very pleasant to look at: the sight of the stony, sandy bleakness of the ground tying before it is, instead, a very monotonous one indeed. 

The internal voice, which I told you I hear and tells me what I must take note of 

and know, is now warning me that I am looking at the Jordan valley. I am 

calling it a valley, because that is the name used to indicate the place where a 

river flows, but here it is incorrect to call it so, because a valley presupposes the 

presence of mountains, but I do not see any mountains in the neighborhood. In 

any case, I am near the Jordan, and the waste land on my right is the desert of 

Judah. 

If it is correct to call a desert a place where there are no houses or man's works, 

it is not so according to our idea of a desert. There are none of the undulating 

sands of the desert, as we understand it, but only bare ground strewn with stones 

and rubble, like alluvial grounds after a flood. There are hills in the distance. 

And yet, near the Jordan, there is a great peace, something special and unusual, 

as one often feels on the shores of Lake Trasimeno. It is a place which seems to 

be full of memories of angels' flights and celestial voices. I cannot describe 

exactly what I feel. But I feel that I am in a place that communicates with my 

soul. 

While I am watching these things, I notice that the right bank of the Jordan (in 

respect to me) is becoming crowded with people. There are many men dressed 

in different fashions. Some seem ordinary people, some rich, and there are some 

who appear to be Pharisees, because their tunics are adorned with fringes and 

braids. 

In the midst of them, standing on a rock, there is a man whom I recognize at 

once to be the Baptist, although it is the first time I have seen him. He is 

speaking to the crowds, and I can assure you that his sermon is not a sweet one. 

Jesus called James and John the Sons of thunder. Well then, what should we call 

this impetuous orator? John the Baptist deserves the names of thunder-bolt, 

avalanche, earthquake, so impetuous and severe he is in his speech and gestures. 

He is announcing the Messiah and exhorting the people to prepare their hearts 

for His coming, eradicating all obstructions and rectifying their thoughts. But it 

is a violent and harsh speech. The Precursor does not possess the light hand 

Jesus used to cure the wounds of hearts. He is a doctor who lays the wound bare, 

scrutinizes it and cuts it mercilessly. 

While I am listening - I am not repeating the words, because they are related by the Evangelists, but here they are amplified in impetuosity - I see my Jesus 

proceeding along a path, which is at the edge of the grassy shady strip coasting 

the Jordan. This rustic road - it is more a path than a road - seems to have been 

opened by the caravans and the people who throughout years and centuries, 

passed along it to reach a point where it is easy to wade, because the water is 

very shallow. The path continues on the other side of the river, and disappears 

from sight in the green strip of the other bank. 

Jesus is alone. He is walking slowly, coming forward, behind the Baptist. He 

approaches noiselessly and listens to the thundering voice of the Penitent of the 

desert, as if He also were one of the many who came to John to be baptized and 

purified for the coming of the Messiah. There is nothing to distinguish Jesus 

from the others. His clothes are those of common people, but He has the bearing 

and handsomeness of a gentleman. There is no divine sign discriminating Him 

from the crowd. 

But it would appear that John perceives a special spirituality emanate from Him. 

He turns round, and at once identifies the source of the emanation. He descends 

impulsively from the rocky pulpit and moves quickly towards Jesus, Who has 

stopped a few yards away from the crowd and is leaning against the trunk of a 

tree. 

Jesus and John stare at each other for a moment: Jesus, with His very sweet blue 

eyes; John with his very severe black flashing ones. Seen from nearby, one is 

the antithesis of the other. They are both tall - their only resemblance - for all 

the rest, they differ immensely. Jesus is fair haired. His hair is long and tidy, His 

face is white ivory, His eyes blue, His garment simple, but majestic. John is 

hairy: his straight, black hair falls unevenly onto his shoulders, his sparse dark 

beard covers his face almost completely, but his cheeks, hollowed by fasting, are 

still noticeable, his feverish eyes are black, his complexion is dark, tanned by 

the sun and weather-beaten, his body is covered with hairs, he is half- naked in 

his camel-hair garment, which is tied to his waist by a leather belt and covers his 

trunk, reaching down to his thin sides, whilst his right side is uncovered and 

bare, completely weather- beaten. They look like a savage and an angel, seen 

close together. 

John, after scrutinizing Him with his piercing eyes, exclaims: 

« Here is the Lamb of God. How is it that my Lord comes to me? » 

Jesus replies calmly: « To fulfill the penitential rite. » 

« Never, my Lord. I must come to You to be sanctified, and You are coming to 

me? » 

And Jesus, laying His hand on the head of John, who had bowed down in front 

of Him, replies: « Let it be done as I wish, that all justice may be fulfilled and 

your rite may become the beginning of a higher mystery and men may be 

informed that the Victim is in the world. » 

John looks at Him with his eyes sweetened by tears and precedes Jesus towards 

the bank of the river. Jesus takes off His mantle and tunic, and is left with a kind 

of pair of short trousers. He then descends into the water, where there is John, 

who baptizes Him, pouring on His head some water from the river by means of 

a cup, tied to his belt, ft looks like a shell or a half pumpkin dried and emptied. 

Jesus is really the Lamb. A Lamb in the whiteness of His flesh, in the modesty 

of His gestures, in the meekness of His look. While Jesus climbs on to the bank 

and after putting on His clothes concentrates on praying, John points Him out to 

the crowd and testifies that he recognized Him by the sign that the Spirit of God 

had shown him as an infallible means to identify the Redeemer. 

But I am enraptured in watching Jesus pray, and 1 can only see His bright figure 

against the green of the river bank. 

Jesus says: « John did not need any sign for himself. His soul, which had been 

presanctified in his mother's womb, possessed that penetration of supernatural 

intelligence which all men would have had, if Adam had not sinned. If man had 

persevered in grace, innocence and loyalty to his Creator, he would have seen 

God through external appearance. In Genesis it is said that God used to speak to 

the innocent man in an informal way, and that man did not faint hearing His 

voice, neither was he deceived in discemning it. Such was the destiny of man: to 

see and understand God exactly as a son does his father. Then man sinned and 

he no longer dared look at God, he was no longer able to see and understand 

God. And now he is less and less able to do so. 

But John, My cousin John, had been purified from fault, when the Full of Grace 

lovingly embraced Elizabeth who, after being barren, had become pregnant. The 

little child had leapt out of joy in her womb, because he felt the scales of sin falling from his soul, as a scab falls off a wound when the tatter is healed. The 

Holy Spirit, Who had made Mary the Mother of the Savior, started His mission 

of salvation on that child about to be bom, through Mary, the living Tabernacle 

of Incarnate Salvation: the child was destined to be united to Me not so much by 

his blood, as by the mission, by which we were like the lips that express a word. 

John was the lips, I the Word. He was the Precursor both in the Gospel and in 

martyrdom; I, by means of My divine perfection, made perfect both the Gospel 

which John had started, and martyrdom, suffered to defend the Law of God. 

John did not need any sign. But a sign was necessary for the darkness of spirit of 

other people. On what would John base his statement, but on an undeniable 

proof evident to the eyes and ears of backward and dull listeners? 

Neither did I need to be baptized. But the wisdom of the Lord had chosen that 

moment and way for our meeting. And leading John out of his cave in the desert 

and Me from My home, He united us in that hour to open the Heavens above Me 

and He descended Himself, a divine Dove, on Him Who was to baptize men 

with that Dove, and His announcement was heard descending from Heaven, 

more powerful than the angel's, because it came from My Father: “This is My 

beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased.” So that man should have no excuse 

or doubt in following or not following Me. 

The manifestations of Christ have been numerous. The first, after His Birth, was 

the Magi's; the second was in the Temple, the third on the ba nk of the Jordan. 

Then there was an endless number of them, which I will let you know, because 

My miracles are manifestations of My divine nature, down to the last ones: My 

Resurrection and Ascension into Heaven. 

My fatherland was full of My manifestations. Like seed scattered to the four 

winds, they took place in every social condition and place in life: to shepherds, 

powerful people, scholars, skeptical men, sinners, priests, rulers, children, 

soldiers, Jews and Gentiles. 

And they take place even now. But, as in the past, the world does not accept 

them. It does not accept the present manifestations and forgets the past ones. 

Well, I will not give up. I will repeat Myself to save you and to persuade you to 

have faith in Me. 

Do you know, Mary, what you are doing? Or rather, what I am doing, in 

showing you the Gospel? Making a stronger attempt to bring men to Me. You yearned for it with your fervent prayers. I will no longer confine Myself to 

words. They tire men and detach them. It is a fault, but it is so. I will have 

recourse to visions, also of My Gospel, and I will explain them to make them 

more attractive and clear. I give you the comfort of seeing them. I give 

everybody the possibility of wishing to know Me. And if it is of no avail, and 

like cruel children they should throw away the gift without understanding its 

value, you will be left with My present, and they with My indignation. I shall be 

able once again to repeat the old reproach: “We played for you and you would 

not dance; we sang dirges and you would not weep.” But it does not matter. Let 

them, the inconvertible ones, heap burning coals on their heads and let us turn to 

the little sheep seeking to become acquainted with their Shepherd. It is I, and 

you are the staff leading them to Me. » 

As you can see, I have hastened to add these details which, being trifling 

matters, had escaped my notice, and were wanted by you. Today, reading the 

booklet, I noticed a sentence which may be a guide for you. 

This morning you were saying that you cannot make my descriptions known 

because of their style and since I am terrified at the very thought of being 

known, I was very happy about it. But do you not think that that is against what 

the Master says in the last dictation in the booklet? « The more careful and 

precise you are (in describing what I see) the greater the number of those who 

will come to Me. » This implies that the description must be known, otherwise 

how can there be a number of souls going to Jesus, thanks to them? I am 

drawing your attention to this point, then you can do what you think is best, 

because, as far as I am concerned, I am indifferent. Nay, humanly speaking. I 

share your opinion. But in this case it is not a human matter and also the human 

side of the mouthpiece must disappear. Also in today's dictation Jesus says: «... 

in showing you the Gospel I make a stronger attempt to bring men to Me. I will 

no longer confine Myself to words... I will have recourse to visions and I will 

explain them to make them more attractive and clear. » So? 

In the meantime, as I am a poor nonentity and by myself I retire to myself, I tell 

you that your remark has upset me, and the Envious One avails himself of the 

situation: I was so upset that I thought I should no longer describe what I see, 

but I should write the dictations only. He whispers in my ear: « You can see it 

yourself! Your famous visions serve no purpose whatsoever, except to make you pass off as mad. Which you really are. What is it that you see? The shams of 

your agitated mind. It takes much more to deserve to see Heaven! » He has 

tortured me all day today with his corrosive temptation. I can assure you that I 

have not suffered so much because of my bitter physical pain as I suffered and 

am suffering because of this. He wants to drive me mad. This Friday is a Friday 

of spiritual temptation for me. I am thinking of Jesus in the desert and of Jesus at 

Gethsemane... 

I will not give up as I do not want this cunning demon to laugh, and fighting 

against him and against my weaker spiritual part, I am writing to you to inform 

you of my present joy and to assure you that, as far as I am concerned, I should 

be quite happy if Jesus deprived me of this gift of seeing, which is my greatest 

joy, providing He continues to love me and have mercy on me.