From 11 a.m. to 12 p.m.

The Crucifixion.

Jesus, my love, you are already stripped of your garments. Your most holy body is so lacerated that it seems to me like a fleeced lamb. I see you trembling from head to foot, and that you can't stand up at all. You fall [and remain lying] on this mount until your enemies have finished preparing the cross. My good Jesus, my all, my heart aches with sorrow to see blood streaming from every part of your most holy body, and to see you lacerated from head to foot. Your enemies are tired but not satisfied. In stripping you, they have torn the crown of thorns from your most holy head with inexpressible pain, only to drive it on again with unheard­of torments. The thorns pierce your most sacred head with new wounds, while you make reparation for the wickedness and the obstinacy of sin, especially that of pride.

Jesus, I see that if love did not continue to drive you on, you would have already died for the bitterness of the pain suffered in this third crowning of thorns. But I see that you cannot bear the pain; and, your eyes veiled with blood, you look to see if at least someone comes near you to support you in so much sorrow and confusion. My gentle Jesus, my dear life, you are not alone here as on the night of your passion. Your sorrowful mother is here. Her heart torn, she suffers as many deaths as you do pains. O Jesus, both loving Mary Magdalene, who appears out of her senses because of your pains, and faithful John, who seems to be struck dumb by the force of the sorrow of your passion, are also here.

This is the mount of lovers; you cannot be alone. But tell me, my love, who do you want to sustain you in so much pain? Please, let me come and hold you up. I need to do this more than anyone else. So, your dear mother and the others let me take their place. O Jesus, I come beside you, embrace you, pray you to rest your head on my shoulder and to make me feel your thorns in my head. I want to put my head close to yours, not only to feel your thorns, but also to wash all my thoughts with the most precious blood that is trickling down your head. With this, all my thoughts will be in the act of making reparation to you for any offense of thought committed by creatures. Yes, my love, come close to me. One by one, I want to kiss the drops of blood that are streaming down your most holy face. And while I adore them one by one, I pray you to make each drop of this blood be light to the mind of every creature, so that no one will offend you with evil thoughts. But, while I am holding you close and you are leaning on me, I look at you, O Jesus, and see that you are looking at the cross which your enemies are preparing for you. You hear the blows of the hammer on the cross, with which they are making the holes for the nails to crucify you.

O my Jesus, I feel your heart pounding and beating violently, as you long for this most welcomed—though indescribably painful—bed of rest, by means of which you will seal the salvation of our souls in yourself. Yes, I hear you saying:

“My love, dear cross, my precious bed. You were my martyrdom in life, and now you are my rest. O cross, receive me quickly in your arms. I am waiting anxiously. Holy cross, in you I will give fulfillment to everything. Hurry, O cross, and fulfill the ardent desires that are consuming me, to give life to souls. You, O cross, will be the seal of these lives. No, don't delay any longer! I am anxiously waiting to extend myself on you, to open heaven to all my children and to close hell. O cross, though you are my struggle, you are my victory and my complete triumph as well; and in you I will give abundant inheritances, victories, triumphs and crowns to my children.”

But, who could ever repeat everything my dear Jesus says to the cross?

While Jesus is unburdening himself with the cross, his enemies command him to extend himself on it, and he promptly obeys, to make reparation for our disobediences. My love, before you extend yourself on the cross, let me press you closer to my heart and give you a kiss, and receive one from you as well. Listen, Jesus, I don't want to leave you. I want to come with you to extend myself on the cross and remain nailed together with you. True love knows no separation of any kind, so you will forgive the boldness of my love and will permit me to remain crucified with you. You see, my gentle love, I am not the only one who is asking this of you. Your suffering mother, inseparable Mary Magdalene, and beloved John also say that it would be more bearable to be crucified with you than to assist and to see you crucified alone. So, together with you, I offer myself to the eternal Father, as I make myself one with your Will, with your love, with your reparations, with your very heart, and with all your pains.

Oh! It seem that my sorrowful Jesus says to me:

“My child, you have guessed what my love wants. This is my will: that all those who love me be crucified with me. Yes, please, by all means, come to extend yourself with me on the cross. I will make you become life of my life. I will keep you as the beloved of my heart.”

Now, my sweet Jesus, you lay down on the cross. Your executioners have nails and hammers in their hands, to nail you to it; and you look at them with such love and gentleness as to invite them to crucify you without delay. Although they feel repugnance, with inhuman fury they take your right hand, hold the nail on it, and with hammer­blows drive it through to the opposite side of the cross. The pain you suffer, my Jesus, is so great and so intense that you tremble. The light of your beautiful eyes is darkened and your most holy face turns pale and ghastly. O blessed right hand, I kiss you, I sympathize with you, I adore you and I thank you for myself and for everyone.

For as many blows as you received, so many souls do I ask you to free from condemnation to hell in this moment. For as many drops of blood as you shed, so many souls do I pray you to wash in this most precious blood. And for the bitter pain you suffered, especially when they were nailing you to the cross, which pulled the nerves in your arms, I pray you to open heaven to everyone and to bless everyone. May your blessing call sinners to conversion, and heretics and infidels to the light of the faith. O Jesus, my dear life, no sooner do your enemies finish hammering the nail through your right hand, than they take your left with unspeakable cruelty. To make it reach the hole prepared beforehand, they pull on it so hard that you feel the joints of your arms and of your shoulders dislocated. And because of the intensity of the pain, your legs retract and twist. Left hand of my Jesus, I kiss you, I sympathize with you, I adore you and I thank you.

By those blows and pains you suffered when they drove in the nail, I pray you to grant flight in this moment to many souls from purgatory to heaven. And by the blood you shed, I pray you to put out the flames that are burning those souls. May it be relief for all of them, refreshment and beneficial bath that purifies them of all their stains, and disposes them to the beatific vision. My love and my all, for the excruciating pain you suffered when they drove the nail through your left hand, I pray you to close hell to all souls and to hold back the thunderbolts of the divine justice, unfortunately irritated by our sins. Yes, Jesus, let this nail in your blessed left hand be the key that closes the door of the divine justice, to keep punishments from raining down on the earth, and to open the treasures of the divine mercy in favor of everyone. So, I pray you to clasp us in your arms.

Now it seems like you can't move to do anything, and that we are free to be able to do everything for you. Therefore, I put the world and all generations into your arms. My love, with the voices of your own blood, I pray you not to deny anyone your forgiveness; and by the merits of this most precious blood, I ask you to give salvation and grace to everyone. Don't exclude anyone, O my Jesus. My love, Jesus, your enemies are not yet satisfied. With diabolical fury they grasp your most holy feet, which were always untiring in seeking souls and are now contracted because of the pain in your hands. They pull them so hard that your knees, your ribs and all the bones in your chest are dislocated. My heart can't bear it, O my good Jesus! Darkened and veiled in blood, I see your beautiful eyes roll because of the pain. And your lips are twisted, livid and swollen by the blows. Your cheeks are sunk; your teeth are chattering; your chest is heaving; and because of the way they have pulled your hands and feet, your heart is all pulled out of shape. My love, how willingly I would take your place to spare you so much pain. I want to extend myself over all your members to give you relief, a kiss and comfort for everyone, and a reparation for everything.

My Jesus, I see that they put one foot on the other and drive a nail through your most holy feet. And what is worse, it is blunt. Please, my Jesus, as the nail passes through them, permit me to put all priests into your right foot, especially those who do not live good and holy lives, so that they may be light for all peoples; and in your left foot, all peoples, so that they may receive light from priests, and respect and obey them. As the nail pierces your feet, so let it run through priests and all peoples, so that neither one of them can separate from you. O blessed feet of my Jesus, I kiss you, I sympathize with you, I adore you and I thank you. For these most bitter pains you have suffered, for the racking that dislocated all your bones, and for the blood you have shed, I pray you to enclose all souls in your wounds. Don't look down on anyone, O Jesus. Let your nails pierce the powers of our soul, so that they will not separate from you; and our heart, so that it will always be fixed in you alone. May all our sentiments be nailed by your nails, so that they will not find any pleasure which does not come from you. My crucified Jesus, now I see you all bathed in blood. You are swimming in a sea of blood, and these drops of blood say but one thing to you: souls. Indeed, I see souls from all the ages teeming in each of these drops of blood. So, you had us all kept in yourself.

O Jesus, by the power of this blood, I ask you not to let anyone else escape from you. O my Jesus, while the executioners finish nailing your feet, I draw near to your heart. I see that you can no longer go on, but your love cries louder: “Give me still more pains!” My Jesus, I embrace your heart, I kiss you, I sympathize with you, I adore you and I thank you for myself and for everyone. O Jesus, I want to rest my head on your heart to hear what you are suffering in this painful crucifixion. Oh, I hear that every blow of the hammer echoes in your heart! This heart is the center of everything: here your pains begin, and here they end. Yes, if it were not waiting to be pierced with a lance, the flames of your love and the blood that boils around it would have run their course and made your heart burst. This blood and these flames call the souls that love you to make a happy dwelling in your heart.

For the love of this heart and for your most precious blood, I pray you, I beg you to give holiness to those souls that love you. O Jesus, never let them go out of your heart. And with your grace, multiply the vocations of victim souls, so that they may continue your life on earth. You wanted to give a special place in your heart to the souls that love you. Never permit them to lose this place. O Jesus, make the flames of your heart burn me and consume me; your blood beautify me; and your love always keep me nailed to love, with pain and with reparation.

O my Jesus, the executioners have now finished nailing your hands and your feet to the cross. Then, turning it over to clinch the nails, they make your adorable face touch the ground bathed in your own blood. With your divine mouth you kiss the ground. My dear love, with this kiss you intend to kiss all souls and bind them to your love, sealing their salvation. O Jesus, let me take your place. And while the executioners are bending the nails over, let these blows wound me as well, and nail me entirely to your love. My Jesus, my gentle good, I put my head in yours. As the thorns sink ever deeper into your head, I want to offer you all my thoughts as affectionate kisses to console you and to lessen the torments of your thorns. O Jesus, I put my eyes in yours; and I see your enemies have not yet had their fill of insulting and mocking you. So, I want to comfort your divine gazes with my gazes of love. I put my mouth in your, O Jesus. Your tongue is almost stuck to the roof of your mouth for the bitterness of the gall and for your burning thirst. To quench your thirst, O my Jesus, you would like to have the hearts of all creatures overflowing with love, but since you don't, you burn ever more for them.

My gentle Jesus, I intend to send you rivers of love to lessen in some way the bitterness of the gall and your burning thirst. O Jesus, I put my hands in yours. At every movement you make, the wounds of your hands tear more, and the pain becomes more intense and cutting. My dear Jesus, to relieve you and to soothe this pain, I offer you the holy works of all creatures. O Jesus, I put my feet in yours. How you suffer in your most holy feet! It seems as though all the movements of your most sacred body reflect in them; and no one is near to support you and to give some relief to the bitterness of your pains. My dearest life, I would like to gather together the steps of the creatures of all generations— past, present and future—and direct them all to you, to come and console you in your intense pains. Indeed, O my Jesus, I intend to place in them the eternal, divine activity that You do with your Father and the Holy Spirit—to give real comfort to your Sacred Humanity.

O my Jesus, I put my heart in your poor heart. How torn it is! If you move your feet, you feel the nerves at the top of your heart being torn. If you move your hands, the nerves on both sides of your heart are torn more than your hands are by the nails. If you move your head, the mouth of your heart bleeds and suffers the entire crucifixion. O my Jesus, how can I comfort such pain? I will disperse myself in you. I will put my heart in yours; my desires in your ardent desires, to destroy any evil desires. I will diffuse my love in Yours so that the fire of your love may inflame the hearts of all creatures and destroy their impure loves. I will spread my love in yours, so that the hearts of all creatures may be burned with your fire, and profane loves destroyed. Your Sacred Heart will be comforted. And from now on, O Jesus, I promise always to remain nailed to this most loving heart with the nails of your desires, of your love and of your Will. O my Jesus, you are crucified, and I am crucified in you. Don't let me become unnailed from you in the least. May I always remain nailed, to be able to love you and make reparation to you for everyone, and to soothe the pain creatures give you with their sins. My good Jesus, I see that your enemies raise the heavy wood of the cross and let it fall into the hole which they have prepared. And you, my dear love, remain suspended between heaven and earth.

In this solemn moment you turn to the Father; and with your weak and feeble voice, you say to him:

“Holy Father, here I am, burdened with all the sins of the world. There is no sin which is not laid upon me. For this reason, do not pour out the punishments of your divine justice upon men, but upon me, your Son. O Father, let me bind all souls to this cross, and implore forgiveness for them with the voices of my blood and of my wounds. O Father, don't you see how I have been reduced? By this cross, in virtue of these sufferings, grant true conversion, peace, forgiveness and holiness to everyone.”

O Jesus, You are nailed to the Cross. But your soul is no longer on earth. It is in the Heavens with your Divine Father—to defend and plead the cause of our souls. My crucified love, I too want to follow you before the throne of the Eternal One, and together with you I want to disarm the divine justice. Joined with your Will, I make your most holy humanity mine. Together with you I want to do whatever you do. My life, permit me to make my thoughts flow in yours; my love, my will and my desires in yours; my heartbeat in your heart; and all my being in you, so that nothing can escape me, and I can repeat all that you do, act for act and word for word. My crucified Jesus, seeing your divine Father extremely angered with creatures, I see that you prostrate yourself before him and hide all creatures in your most holy humanity. With this, you make us safe, so that by looking at us in you, for your love, the Father won't drive the creature away from himself. And if he looks at it with anger, it is because so many souls have disfigured the beautiful image created by him, and have set their thoughts only on offending him. And instead of using their intelligence to understand him, as it was meant to be, they convert it into a den where they hide all their sins.

O my Jesus, to appease him, you call the attention of your divine Father to your most holy head, to see it pierced by thorns that cause you atrocious agonies. These torments have all the intelligences of creatures nailed, as it were, in your mind, for which, one by one, you offer an expiation to satisfy the divine justice. Oh, how these thorns are compassionate voices before the divine majesty that excuse all the evil thoughts of creatures! My Jesus, my thoughts are one with yours. So, together with you before the divine majesty, I pray, implore, make reparation, and excuse all the evil that is done by all the intelligences of creatures. Let me take your thorns and your own intelligence, and go around together with you to all creatures, to join your intelligence to theirs. And with the holiness of your intelligence I want to return to them the original intelligence you created them with. With the holiness of your thoughts, let me set all the thoughts of creatures in order in you, and with your thorns pierce all the minds of creatures, giving back to you dominion and rule over everyone. Yes, my Jesus, you alone be the ruler of every thought, of every affection, and of all the peoples. You alone rule everything. Only in this way will the face of the earth—which causes horror and terror—be changed. Crucified Jesus, I notice that you continue to see the divine Father angered, for he looks at poor creatures and finds them all stained with sins and covered with the ugliest filth, which causes revulsion to all heaven. Oh, how the purity of the divine gaze is horrified, almost to the point of no longer recognizing the poor creature as the work of his most holy hands! Indeed, creatures seem to be as so many monsters that inhabit the earth, drawing upon themselves the just anger of the paternal gaze. O my Jesus, to appease him you try to soothe his gaze by exchanging your eyes with his, making him see yours covered with blood and swollen with tears. You weep before the divine majesty, to move him to compassion for the misfortune of so many creatures.

And I hear your voice that says: “My Father, it is true that the ungrateful creature is defiling itself ever more with sins, so that it doesn't merit your paternal gaze any more. But look at me, O Father. I want to weep enough before you, to form a bath of tears and of blood to wash this filth with which creatures are covered. My Father, do you perhaps want to reject me? No, you cannot: I am your Son. And while I am your Son I am also the head of all creatures, and they are my members. Let us save them, O Father, let us save them.”

My Jesus, boundless love, I would like to have your eyes to cry before the supreme majesty over the loss of so many poor creatures, and for times so sad as these! Let me take your tears and your very gazes, which are one with mine, and go around to all creatures. To move them to compassion for their souls and for your love, I will make them see that you weep for them, and that while they are dirtying themselves, you have your tears and blood ready to wash them. Then, seeing you cry, they will surrender. Yes, with these tears permit me to wash all the filthiness of creatures. Let me make these tears descend into their hearts, soften so many souls hardened in sin, and overcome the obstinacy of all hearts. With your gazes, let me penetrate them so as to make all eyes look up to heaven to love you, and no longer roam over the earth to offend you. With this, the divine Father will not refuse to look at poor humanity.

Crucified Jesus, I see that the anger of the divine Father still has not calmed down, because, while his paternal goodness, moved by so much love for the poor creature, has filled heaven and earth with so many proofs of love and of benefits for it, that at almost every step and act it feels the love and the graces of that paternal heart flowing, the creature, always ungrateful, despising this love, does not want to recognize it. Indeed, it faces so much love by filling heaven and earth with insults, contempt and outrages, going so far as to trample it under its impure feet, even wanting to destroy it by making an idol of itself. Oh, all these offenses even penetrate the heavens and come before the divine majesty. Oh, how he is angered, seeing that the wretched creature goes so far as to insult him and offend him in every way! O my Jesus, always intent on defending us, with the enrapturing force of your love, you compel the Father to look at your most holy face covered with all these insults and contempt; and you say to him:

“My Father, do not despise poor creatures. If you reject them you reject me. Please, be appeased! I have all these offenses on my face, which responds to you for everyone. My Father, stop your fury against poor humanity. They are blind and don't know what they are doing. So, observe me well: see how I am reduced for their cause. If you are not moved to compassion for miserable humanity, be moved to pity by this face of mine, all soiled with spit, covered with blood, pale and swollen by all the slaps and blows received. Have mercy, my Father! I was the most beautiful of all, and now I am so disfigured that I no longer recognize myself. I have become the most repugnant, despised and rejected of all. So, at any cost I want the poor creature saved!”

My Jesus, is it possible for you to love us so? Your love crushes my poor heart. I want to follow you in everything, so let me take your most holy face to have it in my power to continually show it so disfigured to the Father, to move him to compassion for poor humanity, which is so oppressed under the scourge of the divine justice that it lies nearly dead. Let me go into the midst of creatures and show them this face of yours so disfigured for their sake, to move them to compassion for their souls and for your love. With the light that radiates from your face, and with the enrapturing force of your love, let me make them understand who you are and who they are, who dare to offend you. This will make their souls rise from so many sins in which they live dead to grace, and make them all prostrate themselves before you, in the act of adoring you and glorifying you. My crucified, adorable Jesus, the creature always continues to irritate the divine justice, and from its tongue there sounds the echo of horrendous blasphemies, swearing and cursing voices, evil discourses, plots to kill and to massacre. All these voices deafen the earth and even penetrate the heavens, deafening the divine ears. Weary of this poisonous echo that it sends him, the Creator would like to get rid of the creature, banishing it from himself. All these poisonous voices curse, and cry vengeance and justice against themselves. Oh, how the divine justice feels compelled to discharge punishments! Oh, how so many horrendous blasphemies arouse its fury against the creature! O my Jesus, loving us with supreme love, you face these deadly voices with your all­powerful and creative voice, in which you gather up all these voices. You make your gentle voice resound in the ears of the Father to compensate him for the annoyances that creatures cause him, and you give him as many more voices of blessings and praises. Then you cry: “Mercy, graces and love for the poor creature!”

To appease him even more you show him your most holy mouth, and say to him:

“My Father, look at me again. Do not hear the voices of creatures, but mine. I am the one who is satisfying for everyone. So, I pray you to look at the creature, but to do so in me. If you look at it outside of me, what will become of it? It is weak, ignorant, capable only of doing wrong, and full of all miseries. Mercy! Have mercy on the poor creature! I will answer for them with this tongue of mine embittered by gall, parched by thirst, burnt and scorched by love.”

My embittered Jesus, my voice in yours wants to face all these offenses. Let me take your tongue and your lips, and go around to all creatures, touching your tongue to theirs, so that in the act of offending you, by feeling the bitterness you are suffering, if not for love, at least for the bitterness they feel, they may no longer blaspheme. Let me touch their lips with yours, so that with the fire caused by sin upon everyone lips, and with your almighty voice ringing in every breast, the current of all evil voices may be stopped, and all human voices may be transformed into voices of blessings and praises. O holy, crucified Jesus, the creature still does not surrender to so much love and pain. Indeed, despising you, it continues to add sin to sin, committing enormous sacrileges, homicides, suicides, duels, frauds, deceits, cruelties and betrayals. Oh, how all these evil works weigh on the paternal arms. So, unable to sustain their weight, the Father is about to lower them, pouring out fury and destruction upon the earth.

O my Jesus, to snatch the creature from the divine fury, fearing to see it destroyed, you extend your arms to the Father so that he will not lower his to destroy the creature. Helping to sustain the weight with your arms, you disarm him and keep the divine justice from taking its course. Then, to move him to compassion and pity for miserable humanity, you say to him with the most persuasive voice:

“My Father, look at these torn hands and at these nails piercing them, that nail all these evil works to me. Yes, it is in these hands that I feel all the agonies which these evil works give me. Aren't you content, O my Father, with my pains? Aren't they, perhaps, capable of satisfying you? Yes, these dislocated arms of mine will always be chains that will keep the poor creature bound, so that it may not escape me—except someone who wants to tear himself from me by way of force. Besides this, these arms of mine will be loving chains that will bind you, my Father, to keep you from destroying the poor creatures. What is more, I will always draw you toward the creature so that you may pour out your graces and mercies on it.”

My Jesus, your love is a sweet enchantment for me, and it drives me to do what you are doing. So, give me your arms, for, together with you, at the cost of any pain, I want to prevent the divine justice from taking its course against poor humanity. With the blood that is flowing from your hands, I want to put out the fire of sin that enkindles it, and calm its fury. And to move the Father to compassion for creatures, let me put in your arms so many torn members, the groanings of so many poor wounded, and so many suffering and oppressed hearts. Let me go around to all creatures and embrace everyone in your arms to that all may return to your heart. With the power of your creative hands, permit me to stop the current of so many evil works and to make everyone turn away from working evil.

My lovable, crucified Jesus, the creatures is still not tired of offending you. It wants to drink to the dredges, all the scum of sin, and it runs almost madly along the ways of evil, falling headlong into sin time and again. It disobeys your laws; and refusing to recognize you, it rebels against you. Almost to spite you, it wants to go to hell. Oh, how the supreme majesty is angered! O my Jesus, triumphing over everything, even over the obstinacy of creatures, to appease the divine Father, you show him all your most sacred humanity, horribly lacerated, dislocated and torn. You show him your most holy feet pierced. In them, you have all the steps of creatures, which give you such mortal pains that your feet are contorted by the atrocious spasms. I hear your voice, more touching than ever, as if in the act of dying, that wants to overcome the creature by way of love and of pain, and triumph over the heart of your Father.

You say: “My Father, look at me from head to foot: there is no whole part left in me. There is no place where I can still be wounded, in order to suffer more pains. If you are not appeased by this spectacle of love and of pain, who will ever be able to calm you? O creatures, if you do not surrender to so much love, what hope do you have of converting? These wounds and this blood will always be voices which will call down from heaven to earth, graces of repentance, forgiveness and compassion for poor humanity!”

My Jesus, I see you in a state of violence, wanting to appease the Father and to overcome the poor creature. So, let me take your most holy feet and go around to all creatures to tie their steps to your feet, so that if they should want to walk the way of evil, by feeling the chains with which you have them bound to yourself, they won't be able to do it. Yes, with your feet make them withdraw from the way of evil, and put them on the path of good, making them more docile to your laws. And with your nails, close hell so that no one else will fall into it. My Jesus, crucified lover, I see that you can't take it any more. The terrible tension you suffer on the cross; the continual grinding of your bones which are dislocated ever more at every little movement; your flesh which is torn more and more; the repeated offenses you receive, which give you a more painful passion and death; the burning thirst that consumes you; the interior pains that suffocate you with bitterness, pains and love; and all your martyrdoms, for the human ingratitude which comes before you like a violent wave, even penetrating your pierced heart. . . Yes, all these things crush you so much that your most holy humanity, unable to withstand the weight of so many martyrdoms, is about to succumb. Delirious with love and pains, it asks for help and pity.

Crucified Jesus, is it possible that you who maintain everything and give life to everyone, are asking for help? Oh, how I would like to penetrate each drop of your blood and pour out mine to soothe each of your wounds, and lessen the pain of each thorn, making their punctures less painful, and to relieve each interior pain of your heart and so lessen the intensity of your bitterness. I would like to give you life for life. And if it were possible, I would unnail you from the cross to take your place myself. But I see that I am nothing and that I can do nothing. I am too insignificant. So, give me yourself. I will take life in you, and in you I will give you to yourself. With this, you will content my longings. Lacerated Jesus, I see that your most holy humanity is coming to an end, not for your sake, but to bring our redemption to perfect fulfillment. You need divine help, and so you throw yourself into the paternal arms, asking for help and relief. Oh, how the divine Father is moved to compassion as he observes the horrendous destruction of your most holy humanity, the terrible work which sin has done to your most holy members. To satisfy your longings of love, he presses you to his paternal heart and gives you the helps necessary to complete our redemption. As he is clasping you, in your heart you feel repeated with even more severely, the blows of the nails, the lashes of the scourging, the tearing of the wounds, the punctures of the thorns. Oh, how the Father is struck! How indignant he becomes, seeing that all these pains are produced even in your heart, even by souls consecrated to you! And in his sorrow he says to you:

“My Son, is it possible that not even all of those whom you have chosen are with you? Indeed, it seems as though these souls ask refuge and hiding in your heart to embitter you and give you a more painful death. And what is worse, all these pains they give you are hidden and covered by hypocrisy. No, Son, I cannot contain my indignation any longer for the ingratitude of these souls, who cause me more sorrow than all the other creatures together.”

O my Jesus, triumphing over everything, you defend these souls. With the immense love of your heart you protect yourself from the waves of bitterness and the transfixions that these souls give you. And to appease the Father, you say to him:

“My Father, look at my heart. Let all these sorrows satisfy you. And the more bitter they are, so much more powerful may they be over your paternal heart to obtain graces, light and forgiveness for these souls. My Father, do not reject them. They will be my defenders who will continue my life on earth. O most loving Father, consider that if my humanity has now reached the extreme of its sufferings, my heart as well bursts for the bitterness and the intimate pains and unheard-of agonies which it has suffered for the duration of thirty-four years, beginning from the first instant of my incarnation. O Father, you know the intensity of these interior bitternesses which would have been capable of making me die of pure agony in every moment, if our omnipotence had not sustained me to prolong my suffering up to this extreme agony. Yes, if until now I have offered you all the pains of my most holy humanity to appease your justice which is hanging over everyone and to draw upon everyone your triumphant mercy, now, in a particular way for the souls consecrated to us that have gone astray, I present my heart to you, crushed, pressed and broken under the press of all the moments of my mortal life. Yes, my Father, observe this heart which has loved you with infinite love and has always burned in me with love for my brothers and your children. This is the generous heart with which I have longed to suffer, to give you complete satisfaction for all the sins of men. Have pity on its desolations, its continual sorrows, its anguishes, its tediums and its sadnesses in the face of death. O my Father, was there, perhaps, ever a single beat of my heart that did not seek your glory and the salvation of my brothers, at the cost of pains and of blood? Didn't there come forth from this ever­oppressed heart of mine the ardent entreaties, the groanings, the sighs and the resounding cries with which for thirty-four years I have wept and cried out for mercy in your presence?”

“O my Father, you have heard me for an infinite number of times and for an infinite number of souls, for which I thank you infinitely. But look, O my Father: See how my heart cannot be calmed in its pains if even a single soul is to escape from its love, because we love each individual soul as much as all souls together. Will it be said that I had to give my last sigh on this painful instrument of execution, even seeing souls consecrated to us, perish miserably? I am dying in an ocean of anguish and pain for the wickedness and the eternal loss of perverse Judas, who was so hard and thankless that he rejected all my loving and delicate ways. I graced him so, even to the point of making him priest and bishop, as my other apostles. Please, Father, let this abyss of pains be enough! How many souls I see, chosen by us for the double sacred vocation, who, to a greater or lesser degree, want to imitate Judas! Help me, my Father, help me! I cannot bear all these pains. See if there is one fiber of my heart which is not tormented more than my divine body with all the rents it has received. See if all the blood I am shedding does not gush more from my heart —which is destroyed by love and by pain— than from all my wounds. Have pity, my Father, have pity! Not on me, for I want to suffer even infinitely for poor souls; but have pity on all souls, especially on those, both men and women, who have been called to my holy service and to my nuptials of love. Listen, O Father, for my heart, soon to die, accelerates its inflamed heartbeats, and cries: 'For all these pains, I ask of you efficacious graces of repentance and true conversion for these unhappy souls! Do not let even one of them escape us!' I thirst, my Father. I thirst for all souls, especially for these. I thirst for more suffering for each of these souls. My Father, I have always done your Will. Now, this Will of mine which is also yours, please let it be perfectly fulfilled for love of me, your most beloved Son in whom you have found all your good pleasure!”

My Jesus, I can't stand it any longer! I unite myself to your entreaties, to your pains, to your suffering love. Give me your heart so that I may feel your own thirst for the souls consecrated to you, and with my heartbeats, return to you the love and the affections of them all. Let me go around to everyone and put your heart into them. By its contact may the cold be warmed; the lukewarm shaken; the wayward called back, to receive once again all the graces they have rejected. Your heart is suffocated by the sorrow and the bitterness of seeing that the designs you had on these consecrated souls were not realized because of their incorrespondence, and that so many other souls, which, through them, were to have life and salvation, suffer the sad consequences. I will show them your heart so embittered for their sake, I will hurl darts of fire from your heart into them, and I will present all your entreaties and all your sufferings for them [to the Father]. It won't be possible for them not to surrender to you, and so they will return repentant to your feet. Your loving designs on them will be re-established, and they will be in you and around you, no longer to offend you, but to make reparation to you and to console and defend you.

Crucified Jesus, my life, I see that you are still agonizing on the cross, for your love is not yet satisfied in its desire to give fulfillment to everything. Yes, I too agonize together with you. And I call everyone, angels and saints: Come to Mount Calvary to contemplate the excesses and the follies of the love of a God! Let us kiss his bleeding wounds and adore them, let us support those lacerated members, let us thank Jesus for the completed redemption. Let us give a glance to the transfixed mother, who feels as many pains and deaths in her Immaculate Heart for as many pains she sees in her Son-God. Her very garments are spattered with blood, and Mount Calvary is all showered with it. So, all together, let us take this blood. And praying the sorrowful mother to join with us, let us go out to all the world to help everyone. Let us help the endangered that they may not perish, the fallen that they may rise again, and those who are about to fall that they may not.

Let us give this blood to so many poor blind creatures so that the light of the truth may shine in them. In a particular way, let us go into the midst of the poor combatants to be watchful guards over them. And if they are about to be hit by bullets, let us receive them in our arms to comfort them. If they are abandoned by everyone and then are despairing for their sad lot, let us give them this blood, so that they may become resigned, and to calm the fierceness of their pains. Then, if we should see souls that are about to fall into hell, let us give them this divine blood which contains the price of redemption, to snatch them from Satan.

While I have Jesus pressed to my heart to keep him defended and sheltered from everything, I will press everyone to his heart so that all may receive the efficacious grace of conversion, and strength and salvation. O Jesus, I see blood streaming from your hands and your feet. The weeping angels, gathered around you like a crown, admire the wonders of your immense love. I see your tender mother at the foot of the cross, pierced by sorrow. Your dear Mary Magdalene and beloved John are all wrapped in an ecstasy of wonder, of love and of sorrow. O Jesus, I unite myself to you, and I embrace your cross; and taking all the drops of your blood, I pour them into my heart. When I see your justice armed against sinners, I will appease you by showing you this blood. When I want the conversion of souls set in sin, I will show you this blood. And in virtue of it you will not reject my prayer, because I have the token in my hands.

And now, my crucified Jesus, in the name of all generations, past, present and future, together with your mother and all the angels, I prostrate myself before you and say:

“We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you, because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.”


Reflections and Practices.

Jesus Christ obeys his executioners and lovingly accepts the insults and suffering they inflict on Him. Because of the great Love which Jesus felt for our poor souls, He discovered in the Cross his bed of rest. But, in all my pain, do I find rest in Him? With my patience and love, can I say that I am preparing a bed for Jesus in my heart? As Jesus is being crucified, every internal and external part of Him experiences some unique suffering. Do I keep myself completely crucified to Him, at least in my primary senses (of sight and hearing)? When we engage in frivolous conversation or in some other similar form of entertainment that delights us, then Jesus remains nailed to the Cross.

But if we sacrifice this same pleasure for love of Him, we remove his nails and take them upon ourselves. Do I always keep my mind, my heart, and my whole being transfixed with the nails of his Divine Will? While Jesus is crucified, He lovingly beholds his executioners. For his love, do I look with love at those who offend me?

My crucified Jesus, may your nails remain in my heart so that I experience no heartbeat or desire that does not feel their penetration. And may the blood that issues from my heart be the balm that relieves all your Wounds.