Poem Of The Man God The Gospel As Revealed To Me

Would you like to react to this message? Create an account in a few clicks or log in to continue.

Gospel, Life of Jesus, Dogmas, Church Teachings, Catholic Faith, Prayers, Truth, Life, Regeneration, Evolution of Souls


    The Insults Hurled at Jesus' Crucifixion

    Poem
    Poem
    Admin

    Number of posts : 4446
    20101012

    The Insults Hurled at Jesus' Crucifixion Empty The Insults Hurled at Jesus' Crucifixion

    Post by Poem


    Book 5 Passion Section
    Crucifixion

    The crowd showers the most disgraceful abuses on Her at once, associating Her with Her Son in their curses. But with Her trembling white lips, She tries only to comfort Him, with an anguished smile that wipes the tears, which no will-power can refrain.

    The people, beginning with priests, scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians and the like, amuse themselves by going on a kind of roundabout, climbing the steep road, passing along the elevation at the end, and descending along the other road, or vice versa. And while they pass at the foot of the summit, on the second open space, they do not fail to offer their blasphemous words as a compliment to the Dying Victim. All the baseness, cruelty, hatred and folly, which men are capable of expressing with their tongues, is amply testified by those infernal mouths. The fiercest are the members of the Temple, with the assistance of the Pharisees.

    « Well? You, the Saviour of mankind, why do You not save Yourself? Has Your king Beelzebub abandoned You? Has he disowned You? » shout three priests.

    And a group of Judaeans shout: « You, Who not more than five days ago, with the help of the Demon, made the Father say… ha! ha! ha! that He would glorify You, how come You do not remind Him to keep His promise? »

    And three Pharisees add: « Blasphemer He said that He saved the others with the help of God! And He cannot save Himself! Do You want us to believe You? Then work the miracle. Hey, are You no longer able? Your hands are now nailed and You are naked. »

    And some Sadducees and Herodians say to the soldiers: « Watch His witchcraft, you who have taken His garments! He has the infernal sign within Himself! »

    A crowd howls in chorus: « Descend from the cross and we will believe You. You Who want to destroy the Temple… Fool!… Look at it over there, the glorious and holy Temple of Israel. It is untouchable, o profaner! And You are dying. »

    Other priests say: « Blasphemous You the Son of God? Come down from there, then. Strike us by lightning, if You are God. We are not afraid of You and we spit at You. »

    Others who are passing by shake their heads saying: « He can but weep. Save Yourself, if it is true that You are the Chosen One! »

    And the soldiers remark: « So, save Yourself! Burn to ashes this suburra of the suburra! Yes! You are the suburra of the empire, you Judaean rabble. Do so! Rome will put You on Capitol and will worship You as a god! »

    The priests and their accomplices say: « The arms of women were more pleasant than those of the cross, were they not? But, look, Your… (and they utter a disgraceful word) are already there waiting to receive You. You have the whole of Jerusalem as Your matchmaker. » And they hiss like snakes.

    Others throw stones shouting: « Change these into bread, since You multiply loaves. »

    Others mimicking the Hosannas of Palm Sunday, throw branches and shout: « Curses on Him Who comes in the name of the Demon! Cursed be His kingdom! Glory to Zion that cuts Him off the living! »

    A Pharisee stands in front of the cross, he raises his hand in an indecent gesture, and says: « "I entrust You to the God of Sinai" did You say? Now the God of Sinai is preparing You for the eternal fire. Why don't You call Jonah so that he may repay Your kindness? »

    Another one says: « Don't ruin the cross with the strokes Of Your head. It is to be used for Your followers. A whole legion of them will die on Your cross, I swear it on Jehovah. And Lazarus will be the first one I'll put there. We shall see whether You free him from death, now. »


    Peace be with you always


    Last edited by Poem on Fri Jul 24, 2020 10:44 pm; edited 1 time in total
    Share this post on: reddit

    Poem

    Post Sun Dec 25, 2011 7:25 am by Poem


    Jesus 'forgave' everyone of them. All the hate.

    I learned a great lesson today, that is to be like Christ, means to forgive the greatest crime done to yourself, with meekness and humility. This is closest you will get to being like Christ. By really, forgiving hatred in people who really hate you as a Christian, as a good person, as an even mediocre person, because you allowed Christ to fill you with, true love in the moment to see through their actions. "Father, Forgive them for they do not know what they are doing!" but in a low voice he said this. Barely audible, to the farthest away. For His throat was dry, he had no drink, no water, to quench His thirst, He had been beaten, by brutes. He had been scourged by beasts, He had been kicked and hit by raving madmen. He forgave them all, they were hateful, they were filled with madness of hate.

    Yet, the impact of what I learned is nothing compared to what I was revealed.

    Hate is Satan. They were filled with the wrath of Satan. They were possessed.

    We can be possessed by Love, or possessed by Hate.

    Jesus came to save, He came to forgive men their sins against God. To make peace between God and man.

    When we can forgive hateful people, we then have achieved, Christ likeness. It takes a lot to get there for some, while others have already conquered this.

    For me, though, I grew up around hateful people, I just wanted to get away from them. I had no idea about Religion, did not know how to react to such a situation, because, the flurries of hateful words and actions, makes one stunned, paralyzed. Shocked.

    Jesus was not shocked, nor stunned, nor paralyzed, he knew exactly what was happening and resorted to forgiveness. Love, Mercy, Compassion, for the evil and wicked men. He let God judge them. He forgave them.

    Then later on we see, after the "Deicide" God's flurries for those who rejected, Christ. Thunder, earthquake, whirlwinds. Tearing of the Veil in the Temple. So forth.

    Jesus the meek Lamb of God.

    The Father, the Judge in this case.

    But, in the latter days, Jesus is the Lamb King, and the Judge. For the Father has given Him all authority in Heaven and on Earth. But, the Son does nothing on His Own, it is a Triune God, they all agree and act together. Interesting isn't it? One cannot act out of agreement from the others. They all agree. Unlike man.

    Peace be with you always
    Poem

    Post Wed Jul 28, 2021 1:15 am by Poem



    Book 5
    Chapter The Crucifixion


    Above on the very first post, we've read what the Haters of God, such as the Pharisees were saying.

    Some paragraphs of description are taken from this chapter in Book 5 to describe the scene from where Christ was on His last breaths and to where He commended His Spirit to the Father. His last moments on the Scaffold.

    Pay close attention to what happens in the sky, and on the earth. The weather changes drastically and quickly.

    The repentant robber calms down, and as he no longer remembers the prayers he learned when a child, he repeats as an ejaculation: « Jesus Nazarene, king of the Jews, have mercy on me; Jesus Nazarene, king of the Jews, I hope in You; Jesus Nazarene, king of the Jesus, I believe in Your Divinity. »

    The other robber continues cursing.

    The sky becomes duller and duller. Now the clouds hardly ever open to let the sun shine. On the contrary they cluster on top of one another in leaden, white, greenish strati, they disentangle according to the caprices of a cold wind, which at times blows in the sky, then descends to the ground, and then drops again, and when it drops the air is almost more sinister, sultry and dull than when it hisses, blowing biting and fast.

    The light, previously exceedingly bright, is becoming greenish. And faces look strange. The profiles of the soldiers, under their helmets and in their armour, which were previously shining and have now become rather tarnished in the greenish light and under an ashen-grey sky, are so hard that they seem to be chiselled. The Judaeans, the complexion, hair and beards of whom are mostly brown, seem drowned people, so wan are their faces. The women look like statues of bluish snow because of their deadly paleness, which is accentuated by the light.

    Jesus seems to be turning ominously livid, because of a beginning of putrefaction, as if He were already dead. His head begins to hang over His chest. His strength fails Him rapidly. He shivers, although He is burning with fever. And in His weakness, He whispers the name that so far He has only uttered in the bottom of His heart: « Mother! Mother! » He murmurs it in a low voice, like a sigh, as if He were already lightly delirious and thus prevented from holding back what His will would not like to reveal. And each time Mary makes an unrestrainable gesture of stretching Her arms, as if She wished to succour Him. And the cruel people laugh at such pangs of Him Who is dying and of Her Who suffers agonies.

    Priests and scribes climb up again as far as the shepherds, who, however, are on the lower open space. And as the soldiers want to drive them back, they react saying: « Are these Galileans staying here? We want to stay here as well, as we have to ascertain that justice is done to the very end. And from afar, in this light, we cannot see. »

    In fact many begin to be upset by the light that is enveloping the world and some people are afraid. Also the soldiers point to the sky and to a kind of cone that seems of slate, so dark it is, and that rises I like a pine-tree from behind the top of a mountain. It looks like a waterspout. It rises and rises and seems to produce darker and darker clouds, as if it were a volcano belching smoke and lava.

    I do not even know whether Jesus can see them in the thick fog that is getting thicker and thicker, and with His eyes that are already veiled by agony. But they see Him and they weep without any respect for public opinion, although the priests now abuse them.

    The sufferings are worse and worse. The body begins to suffer from the arching typical of tetanus, and the clamour of the crowd exasperates it. The death of fibres and nerves extends from the tortured limbs to the trunk, making breathing more and more difficult, diaphragmatic contraction weak and heart beating irregular. The face of Christ passes, in turns, from very deep-red blushes to the greenish paleness of a person bleeding to death. His lips move with greater difficulty, because the overstrained nerves of the neck and of the head itself, that for dozens of times have acted as a lever for the whole body, pushing on the cross bar, spread the cramp also to the jaws. His throat, swollen by the obstructed carotid arteries, must be painful and must spread its oedema to the tongue, which looks swollen and slow in its movements. His back, even in the moments when the tetanising contractions do not bend it in a complete arch from the nape of His neck to His hips, leaning as extreme points against the stake of the cross, bends more and more forwards, because the limbs are continuously weighed down by the burden of the dead flesh.
    The people cannot see this situation very clearly, because the light now is like dark ashes, and only those who are at the foot of the cross can see well.

    He raises His face, looking with wide open eyes at the world stretched at His feet, at the far away town, which one can see just indistinctly as a vague whiteness in the mist, and at the dark sky where every trace of blue and of light has disappeared. And to this closed, compact, low sky, resembling a huge slab of dark slate, He shouts in a loud voice,

    Darkness becomes deeper. Jerusalem disappears completely. The very slopes of Calvary seem to vanish. Only the top is visible, as if darkness held it high up to receive the only and last surviving light, laying it as an offering, with its divine trophy, on a pool of liquid onyx, so that it may be seen by love and by hatred.

    The Earth replies to the cry of the murdered Innocent with a frightening rumble. From a thousand bugle-horn giants seem to give out only one sound and on that terrible chord there are the isolated rending notes of lightning that streaks the sky in all directions, falling on the town, on the Temple, on the crowd… I think that some people were struck by lightning, because the crowd was struck directly. The lightning is the only irregular light that enables one to see at intervals. And immediately afterwards, while the volley of thunderbolts still continues, the earth is shaken by a cyclonic whirlwind. The earthquake and the tornado join together to give an apocalyptic punishment to the blasphemers. The summit of Golgotha trembles and quakes like a plate in the hands of a madman, because of the subsultory and undulatory shocks that shake the three crosses so violently that they seem on the point of being overturned.

    Longinus, John, the soldiers grab whatever they can, as best they can, not to fall. But John, while grasping the cross with one arm, with the other supports Mary Who, both because or Her grief and the unsteadiness, has leaned on his chest. The other soldiers, and in particular those on the side sloping downhill, have had to take shelter in the centre, to avoid being thrown down the precipice. The robbers howl with terror, the crowd howls even more and would like to run away. But it is not possible. People fall one on top of the other, they tread on one another, they fall into the fissures of the ground, they hurt themselves, they roll down the slope as if they had gone mad.

    The earthquake and the tornado recur three times, then there is the absolute immobility of a dead world. Only flashes of lightning, without the rumble of thunder, still streak the sky illuminating the scene of the Jews fleeing in every direction, at their wits' end, their hands stretched forward or raised to the sky, at which they had so far sneered and of which they are now afraid. Darkness is mitigated by a dim light which, increased by the silent magnetic lightning, enables one to see that many are lying on the ground, I do not know whether they are dead or have fainted. A house is on fire inside the walls and the flames rise up straight in the still air, a bright red spot in the grey-green atmosphere.

    « What a fright! I have seen other earthquakes. But never like this one. Look: the ground is full of fissures. »

    This was God's judgment upon them.

    As Jesus said, the Temple was a corpse because they refused Him.

    … While on Calvary everything remains in this tragic situation, I join Joseph and Nicodemus, who are going down along a short cut to gain time.

    They are almost at the bottom when they meet Gamaliel. An unkempt Gamaliel, with no headgear, no mantle, with his magnificent garment soiled with mould and torn by bramble. A Gamaliel who is running, climbing and panting, with his hands in his thin very grizzled hair of an elderly man. They speak to one another without stopping.

    « Gamaliel! You? »

    « You, Joseph? Are you leaving Him? »

    « No, I am not. But how come you are here? And in that state?… »

    « Dreadful things! I was in the Temple! The sign! The Temple door unhinged! The purple hyacinth veil is hanging torn! The Holy of Holies is open! There is anathema upon us! » He has spoken while running towards the summit, driven mad by the test.

    The two men look at him go… they look at each other… they say together: « "These stones will shudder at My last words!" He had promised him!… »

    In the country, between the mountain and the walls and beyond them, many people looking idiotic are wandering, in the still dim light… They howl, weep and lament… Some say: « His Blood has rained fire! » Some exclaim: « Jehovah has appeared in the midst of the lightning to curse the Temple! » Some moan: « The sepulchres! The sepulchres! »

    Joseph gets hold of a man who is striking his head against the walls and calls him by his name, dragging him as he enters the town: « Simon! What are you saying? »

    « Leave me! You are dead, too! All dead! All outside! And they curse me. »

    « He has gone mad » says Nicodemus.

    They leave him and they hasten towards the Praetorium.

    The town is a prey to terror. People roam beating their breasts. People who jump backwards or turn round frightened upon hearing a voice or steps behind them.

    In one of the many dark archivolts, the apparition of Nicodemus dressed in white wool - because, in order to be quicker, he has taken off his dark mantle on Golgotha - causes a fleeing Pharisee to utter a cry of terror. He then realises that it is Nicodemus and he clings to his neck with a strange effusion, shouting: « Don't curse me! My mother appeared to me and said: "Be cursed for ever!" » and then he collapses on the ground moaning: « I'm afraid! I'm afraid! »


    Peace be with you always


    Poem

    Post Wed Jul 28, 2021 1:26 am by Poem



    Despiste the Temple judged and destroyed, there were good willed souls and God knew who they were.
    God judges perfectly and precisely. Fair. Gamaliel was a just man and he had to see the signs of Destruction of the Temple (above post) at the Crucifixion of Christ to awaken his poor old dead soul. And Gamaliel was the teacher of The Law of God as a rabbi.

    It was those who denied God and the Christ to the end that got the axe. They were Satan's through and through.

    So another point is if you are with Satan, and are now being a dumb idiot with fearless rants and raves, when you are Judged by God, you will be just like those poor souls who denied God in the Christ because you serve your Master Satan in fear, suppressing beneath your fear. Satan rules in 'fear.' He subplants through fear, then later you seem fearless. Fearless in evil but when God removes this rancor from you, you are what you were when Satan snatched your souls to serve Satan. Fear. Afraid.

    Satan makes cowards.
    God makes saints.

    Peace be with you always


    Poem

    Post Wed Jul 28, 2021 1:33 am by Poem



    Thus we have in the post above of a very real Apocalyptic scene in Jerusalem.

    Now, when we read the Apocalypse it encompasses the whole earth.

    Imagine tens of thousands, falling... The whole earth shook with Thunders and Lightnings... whirlwinds, hail, storms, all kinds of cataclysmic activities and events which God does not want to perform. Evil will be eradicated from the face of the earth.
    This earth belongs to God and God has given man the greatest gifts so mankind can reach the Bliss, the Beatific in peace.

    Here is one point to get straight, it is always Satan who instigates man to 'ruins.'

    Never does God instigate. God teaches and sends Himself Incarnate to get man out of insanity. Insanity is not wanting Life but Death.

    Peace be with you always


    Poem

    Post Wed Jul 28, 2021 7:31 am by Poem



    Book 5
    627. The Apostles Go along the Way of the Cross.

    14th April 1947.


    Jerusalem is already burning hot in the midday sun. A shady archivolt is a relief for one's eyes dazzled by the sun, that blazes down on the white walls of houses and makes the surface of streets exceedingly hot. And the incandescent white of the walls and the dark of the archivolts make Jerusalem a whimsical picture in black and white, a succession of bright lights and dim lights, and the contrast with the bright lights makes the latter look dark, a succession as tormenting as an obsession, because it deprives one of the faculty of sight, because the light is either too strong or too dim. People proceed with half-closed eyes, striving to walk fast in the areas of light and heat, slowing down under the archivolts, where one must go slow, because the contrast between light and darkness prevents one from seeing anything, even if one's eyes are open.

    That is how the apostles proceed in a town that the midday heat makes deserted. And they perspire and wipe their faces and necks with their head-coverings and they pant…

    But when they have to leave the town, they no longer have the relief of the archivolts. The road that runs along the walls and disappears towards the north and the south like a dazzling ribbon of incandescent dust, gives the impression of a furnace ground. The heat rising from it is like that of an oven, a heat that dries one's lungs. The little torrent that flows beyond the walls has a thin trickle of water in the centre of its bed of stones, that the sun makes as white as desiccated skulls. The apostles rush towards that stream of water and drink it. They immerse their head-coverings into it, and after washing their faces, they put them on their heads still dripping. They wallow in it, in that thin trickle of water, with their bare feet. Of course, it is a very poor relief. The water is as warm as if it had been poured out of a pot hanging over a fire. And they say so: « It is warm and scanty. It tastes of mud and lye. When it is so little, it tastes of the washing done at dawn. » They begin to climb Golgotha. The scorched Golgotha, where the blazing sun has dried the sparse grass that looked like thin down on the yellowish mountain fifteen days previously. Now only stiff and very rare tufts of thorny plants, all aculei and no leaves, here and there prick up their skeleton-like stems, of a yellowish green because of the dust of the mountain, exactly like bones just taken out of the earth. Yes. They do look like bunches of desiccated bones stuck into the ground. There is one of them, which after a straight stem about two spans long, has a sudden bend that ends in five twigs after a kind of palette. It really looks like the hand of a skeleton, stretched out to catch whoever passes by and hold him in that place of nightmares.

    « Do you want to take the long road or the short one? » asks John, who is the only one who has already been up that mountain.

    « The shorter one! The shorter one! Let us be quick! One suffocates to death here! » they all say, except the Zealot and James of Alphaeus.

    « Let us go! »
    The stones of the paved street are as hot as plates taken out of a fire.
    « But it is not possible to go on here! It is impossible! » they say after a few metres.
    « And yet the Lord climbed up as far as that spot, where that thornbush is, and He was already wounded and was carrying the cross » remarks John, who has been weeping since he has been on Calvary.
    They proceed. But they soon throw themselves on the ground, utterly exhausted and gasping for air. Their head-coverings which they had dipped into the stream, have already been dried by the sun, on the other hand their garments are wet with perspiration.
    « Too steep and too hot! » says Bartholomew, puffing and blowing.
    « Yes. Far too much! » confirms Matthew, who is congested.
    « The sun is the same everywhere. But to go uphill, let us take that road. It is longer, but not so toilsome. Longinus also took it to make it possible for the Lord to climb it. See there, where that rather dark stone is? The Lord fell there and we thought He was dead, as we were looking from there, from the north, over there, see? where that cavity is, before the slope rises steeply. He did not move any more. Oh! the cry of His Mother! It resounds in me here! I will never forget that cry! I will not forget any of Her moaning… Ah! there are things that make one an old man in one hour and they give the measure of the sorrow of the world… Come on, let us go! Our Martyr, the Lord, did not stop here as long as you have done! » says John urging them.

    They stand up looking astonished and they follow him as far as the intersection of the paved road with the spiral path, and they go along the latter. Yes. It is not so steep. But as far as the sun is concerned! Its heat is even stronger, as the slope, which the path skirts, reverberates its heat on the wayfarers already scorched by the sun.

    « But why make us come up here at this time?! Could He not have made us come up at dawn, as soon as there was enough light to see where we were putting our feet? All the more that we were outside the walls and we could have come without awaiting the gates to be opened. » They complain and grumble among themselves.
    Men, still and always men, now, after the tragedy of Good Friday, which is more the tragedy of their proud and cowardly humanity, than a tragedy of the Christ, Who is always the triumphant hero even when dying; men as they were previously, when they were inebriated with the shouts of hosannas of the crowds, and the were overjoyed thinking of the feasts and sumptuous banquets in Lazarus' house… Deaf, blind, dull-minded to all the signs and warning of the impending storm.

    James of Alphaeus and the Zealot are weeping silently. Also Andrew no longer complains after John's last words. John speaks also now, remembering, and his recollections are a brotherly admonition, an exhortation not to complain… He says: « This is the hour in which He came up here. And He had already walked for a long time. Oh! I could say that, since He left the Supper room, He did not have a moment's rest! And it was a very warm day! There was the sultriness of the oncoming storm… And He was burning with a high temperature. Nike says that she had the impression of touching fire when she laid the linen cloth on His face. The place where He met the women must be somewhere here… As we were on the opposite side, we did not see the meeting. But, as Nike and the other women told me… Come on. Let us go! Just consider that the Roman ladies, who are accustomed to moving about in litters, walked up this road exposed to the sun from the morning, from the third hour, when He was sentenced to death. Oh! they, the heathen women, preceded everybody, and they sent slaves to warn the others who were absent for some reason… »

    They proceed… That road is a burning torture! They even stagger.

    Peter says: « If He does not work a miracle, we shall fall struck by the sun. »
    « Yes. My heart is burning in my throat » says Matthew in agreement.
    Bartholomew no longer speaks. He seems to be inebriated. John holds him by the elbow and supports him, as he did with the Mother on the cruel Good Friday. And to comfort them he says: « Not far from here there is some shade. Where I took the Mother. We will rest there. »
    They proceed, more and more slowly…

    They are now at the rock where Mary was. And John tells them. There is in fact a little shade. But the air is still and hot.

    « If there were at least a stalk of anise, a mint leaf, a blade of grass! My mouth is like parchment placed near a fire. But nothing! Nothing! » moans Thomas, whose veins are swollen at his neck and forehead.
    « I would give the rest of my life for a drop of water » says James of Zebedee.

    Judas Thaddeus bursts into tears and shouts: « My poor brother, how much You suffered! He said… He said, do you remember? that He was dying of thirst! Oh! now I understand! I had not understood the full meaning of those words! He was dying of thirst! And there was not one who gave Him a drop of water, while He was still able to drink! And He was feverish, in addition to the sun! »
    « Johanna had taken Him a refreshment… » says Andrew.

    « He was no longer able to drink, by that time! He could not speak any more… When He met His Mother over there, ten steps from here, all He could say was: "Mother!", and He could not even kiss Her, not even from afar, although Simon from Cyrene had relieved Him of the cross. His lips were dry, hardened by the wounds… Oh! I could see Him clearly, from behind the line of legionaries! Because I did not pass here. I would have taken His cross, if they had allowed me to pass! But they were afraid for me… because of the crowd that wanted to stone us… He could not speak… or drink… or kiss… It was almost impossible for Him to look with His painful eyes through the crusts of blood that ran down from His forehead!… His garment was torn near His knee, that one could see wounded, bleeding… His hands were swollen and wounded… He had a wound on His chin and cheek… The cross had made a wound on His shoulder, already cut by the scourging… The ropes had cut into His waist… His hair was dripping with the blood of the wounds made by the thorns… He had… »

    « Be quiet! Be quiet! It is not possible to listen. Be quiet! I beg and I order you! » shouts Peter, who seems to be tortured.
    « It is not possible to listen to me! You cannot listen to me! But I had to see and hear Him in His torture! And His Mother? What

    about His Mother, then? »
    They bend their heads, sobbing and they resume going on… They no longer complain. But now they all weep over Christ's sorrows.

    They are now at the top. On the first esplanade: a slab of fire. The reflection of the heat is such that the earth seems to be trembling, because of that phenomenon caused by the sun on the burning sands of deserts.

    « Come. Let us go up here. The centurion made us pass here. Me as well. He thought I was Mary's son. The women were over there. And the shepherds there. And over there the Judaeans… » John points out the various places and concludes: « But the crowd was below, below, they covered the slope down to the valley, down to the road. They were on the walls, on the terraces near the walls. As far as one could see. I saw that when the sun began to be veiled. Previously it was as it is now, and I could not see… »
    In fact Jerusalem looks like a mirage trembling down at the bottom. The excess of light acts as a veil for those who want to see it. And John says: « In other hours - Mary of Lazarus said so, but I did not know when and why she had come here - one can see the black remains of the houses set on fire by lightning. The houses of the most guilty ones… of many, at least, among them… Look! Here (John counts his steps, he reconstructs the scene) Longinus was here and Mary and I here. And here was the cross of the repentant robber and over there the other one. And this is where they cast lots for His garments. And over there the Mother fell when He died… and from here I saw His Heart being pierced (John becomes as white as death) because His Cross was here » and he kneels down on the ground, worshipping with his face on the earth that had been dug along the whole length of earth covered with blood under the transverse bar of the cross and around the vertical stake of it. The Magdalene must have worked hard to dig so much earth, about a good span deep, in a soil so hard, mixed with stones and rubble, that make it a compact crust!
    They have all thrown themselves on the ground to kiss the dust, which they now wet with their tears…
    John is the first to stand up, and lovingly pitiless, he recalls every episode… He no longer feels the heat of the sun… Nobody feels it… He tells them how Jesus refused the wine with myrrh, how He took His clothes off and put on His Mother's veil, how He appeared so badly scourged and wounded, how He lay down on the cross and shouted at the first nail, and then He no longer shouted, so that His Mother should not suffer so much, and how they lacerated His wrist and dislocated His arm to pull it to the right point and how, when He had been completely nailed, they turned the cross over to hammer in the nails, and it lay heavy on the Martyr, Whose panting could be heard, and the cross was turned over again and raised while they were dragging it, and it was dropped into the hole and earthed up, and how His Body fell down tearing His hands, and the crown moving tore His head, and the words He spoke to His Father in Heaven, His words asking forgiveness for those who crucified Him and forgave the repentant robber, and His words to His Mother and to John, and the arrival of Joseph and Nicodemus, so openly heroic in defying the whole world, and the courage of Mary of Magdala, and His cry full of anguish to His Father Who had abandoned Him, and His thirst, and the vinegar with gall, and His last agony, and His feeble entreaty to His Mother, and Her words, with His soul already at the point of death because of the torture, the torture… and His resignation and abandonment to God, and His last horrible convulsion and the cry that made the world tremble, and Mary's cry when She saw Him dead…

    « Be quiet! Be quiet! Be quiet! » shouts Peter, and he seems to be pierced by the lance. Also the others implore him saying: « Be silent! Be silent!… »
    « I have nothing further to say. The sacrifice was over. The burial… our torture, not His. There is no value in it other than the Mother's grief. Our torture! Does it perhaps deserve compassion? Let us give Him it, instead of asking compassion for ourselves. We have always avoided sorrow, fatigue and abandonment too much, leaving all that to Him, to Him alone. We have really been worthless disciples, as we loved Him for the joy of being loved, out of pride of being great in His kingdom, but we did not love Him in His sorrow… Now no longer so. Here. We must swear here, this is an altar, and it is high up, facing Heaven and Earth, that it will no longer be so. Now joy for Him, the cross for us. Let us swear it. It is the only way to give peace to our souls. Here Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah, the Lord died, to be the Saviour and Redeemer. Let the man, that is, what we are, die here, and the true disciple rise. Rise! Let us swear in the Holy Name of Jesus Christ that we want to embrace His doctrine to the extent of being able to die for the redemption of the world. »

    John seems a seraph. While he is gesticulating his, head-covering has fallen off, and his fair hair shines in the sun. He has climbed on some rubble thrown on one side, probably the supports of the crosses of the robbers, and he unintentionally takes the stretchedout arms attitude, that Jesus often took when teaching, and in particular the attitude He had on the cross.

    The others look at him, so handsome, so fervent, so young, the youngest of them all, and so mature spiritually. Calvary has made him reach a perfect age… They look at him and shout: « We swear it! »
    « Let us pray then, so that the Father may ratify our oath: "Our Father Who art in Heaven… " »
    The chorus of the eleven voices becomes confident, more and more confident as it proceeds. And Peter beats his breast while he says: « forgive us our trespasses » and they all kneel down when they say the last supplication: « deliver us from evil. »

    They remain so, bent to the ground, meditating…

    Jesus is among them. I have not seen when and whence He appeared. One would say from that part of the mountain that is inaccessible. He shines with love in the bright midday light and He says: « He who remains in Me will have no harm from the Evil One. I solemnly tell you that those who are united to Me in serving the Most High Creator, Whose desire is the salvation of every man, will be able to expel demons, to make reptiles and poisons harmless, to pass among wild beasts and through flames without being hurt, for all the time that God wants them to remain on the Earth to serve Him. »

    « When did You come, Lord? » they say raising their heads, but remaining on their knees.
    « Your oath called Me. And now, now that the feet of My apostles have trodden on these clods, go down quickly to town, to the Supper room. The women from Galilee will leave in the evening with My Mother. You and John will go with them. We will all meet in Galilee, on the Tabor » He says to the Zealot and John.
    « When, Lord? »
    « John will know and he will tell you. »
    « Are You leaving us, Lord? Will You not bless us? We need Your blessing so much. »
    « I will give you it here and in the Supper room. Prostrate yourselves! »

    He blesses them, and the brightness of the sun envelops Him as in His Transfiguration, but here it conceals Him. Jesus is no longer there.

    They look up. There is nothing but the sun and the parched earth… « Let us get up and go! He has gone! » they say sadly.



    Peace be with you always

    Post  by Sponsored content


      Current date/time is Mon Nov 25, 2024 12:49 am