Author Topic: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour. (Read 1704 times)

Nishant Xavier · « **Reply #5 on:** April 10, 2019, 09:23:02 AM »

Fifth Hour
From 9 to 10 PM First Hour of Agony in the Garden of Gethsemani

My afflicted Jesus, I feel drawn to this Garden as by an electric current. I comprehend that You, powerful magnet of my wounded heart, are calling me; and I run, thinking to myself: ‘What are these attractions of love that I feel within me? Ah, maybe my persecuted Jesus is in such a state of bitterness as to feel the need of my company.’ And I fly.
But – no! I feel horrified upon entering this Garden. The darkness of the night, the intensity of the cold, the slow moving of the leaves which, like feeble voices, announce pains, sadness and death for my sorrowful Jesus; the sweet glittering of the stars which, like crying eyes, are all intent on looking, reproach me for my ingratitude. And I tremble; gropingly, I go in search of Him, and I call Him: ‘Jesus, where are You? You call me, and You do not show Yourself? You call me, and You hide?’

Everything is terror, everything is fright and profound silence. But I prick up my ears: I hear a labored breath, and it is Jesus Himself that I find. But what a dismal change! No longer is He the sweet Jesus of the Eucharistic Supper, whose face shone with radiant and enrapturing beauty; but He is sad, of a mortal sadness, such as to disfigure His native beauty. He already agonizes, and I feel troubled in thinking that maybe I will no longer hear His voice, because He seems to be dying. So I cling to His feet; I become more brave – I draw near His arms and I place my hand on His forehead in order to sustain Him, and softly, I call Him: ‘Jesus, Jesus!’
And He, stirred by my voice, looks at me and says: “Child, are you here? I was waiting for you. This was the sadness which oppressed Me the most: the total abandonment of all. And I was waiting for you, to let you be the spectator of my pains, and to let you drink, together with Me, the chalice of bitternesses which, in a little while, my Celestial Father will send Me through the Angel. We will sip from it together, because it will not be a chalice of comfort, but of intense bitternesses, and I feel the need of a few loving souls who would drink at least a few drops of it. This is why I called you – that you may accept it, share with Me the pains, and assure Me that you will not leave Me alone in such great abandonment.”
‘Ah, yes my panting Jesus, we will drink together the chalice of your bitternesses; we will suffer your pains, and I will never move from your side!’

And afflicted Jesus, assured by me, enters into mortal agony, and suffers pains never before seen or understood. And I, unable to resist and wanting to compassionate Him and relieve Him, say to Him: ‘Tell me, why are You so sad, afflicted and alone in this Garden and in this night? This is the last night of your life on earth; a few hours are left for You to begin your Passion. I thought I would find at least the Celestial Mama, the loving Magdalene, the faithful Apostles; but instead, I find You all alone, prey to a sadness which gives You a ruthless death, without making You die. Oh my Good and my All, You do not answer me? Speak to me!’ But it seems You have no speech, so much is the sadness which oppresses You. But, oh my Jesus, that gaze of yours, full of light, yes, but afflicted and searching, such that it seems to be looking for help; your pale face, your lips parched with love, your Divine Person, trembling from head to foot, your heart, beating so intensely – and those heartbeats search for souls and cause You such labor that it seems that, any moment now, You are about to breathe your last – everything tells me that You are alone, and therefore You want my company.

Here I am, O Jesus, together with You. But I don’t have the heart to see You cast on the ground. I take You in my arms, I press You to my heart; I want to count, one by one, your strainings, and, one by one, the offenses which advance toward You, in order to give You relief for everything, reparation for everything, and to give You at least one act of my compassion, for everything.

But, O my Jesus, while I hold You in my arms, your sufferings increase. My Life, I feel fire flowing in your veins, and I feel your Blood boiling, wanting to burst the veins to come out. Tell me, my Love, what is it? I do not see scourges, nor thorns, nor nails, nor cross; yet, as I place my head upon your Heart, I feel that cruel thorns pierce your head, that ruthless scourges spare not even one smallest part, inside and outside of your Divine Person, and that your hands are paralyzed and contorted, more than by nails. Tell me, my sweet Good, who has so much power, also in your interior, as to torment You and make You suffer as many deaths for as many torments as he gives You?

Ah, it seems that blessed Jesus opens His lips, faint and dying, and says to me: “My child, do you want to know what it is that torments Me more than the very executioners? Rather, those are nothing compared to this! It is the Eternal Love, which, wanting primacy in everything, is making Me suffer, all at once and in the most intimate parts, what the executioners will make Me suffer little by little. Ah, my child, it is Love which prevails in everything, over Me and within Me. Love is nail for Me, Love is scourge, Love is crown of thorns – Love is everything for Me. Love is my perennial passion, while that of men is in time. Ah, my child, enter into my Heart, come to be dissolved in my love, and only in my love will you comprehend how much I suffered and how much I loved you, and you will learn to love Me and to suffer only out of love.”

O my Jesus, since You call me into your Heart to show me what love made You suffer, I enter into It. But as I enter, I see the portents of love, which crowns your head, not with material thorns, but with thorns of fire; which scourges You, not with lashes of ropes, but with lashes of fire; which crucifies You with nails, not made of iron, but of fire. Everything is fire, which penetrates deep into your bones and into your very marrow; and distilling all of your Most Holy Humanity into fire, it gives You mortal pains, certainly greater than the very Passion, and prepares a bath of love for all the souls who will want to be washed of any stain and acquire the right of children of love.

Oh, Love without end, I feel like drawing back before such immensity of love, and I see that in order to enter into love and to comprehend it, I should be all love! O my Jesus, I am not so! But since You want my company, and You want me to enter into You, I pray You to make me become all love.

And so I supplicate You to crown my head and each one of my thoughts with the crown of love. I implore You, O Jesus, to scourge my soul, my body, my powers, my feelings, my desires, my affections – in sum, everything, with the scourge of love; so that, in everything, I may be scourged and sealed by love. Oh endless Love, let there be nothing in me which does not take life from love.
O Jesus, center of all loves, I beg You to nail my hands and my feet, with the nails of love, so that, completely nailed by love - love I may become, love I may comprehend, with love I may be clothed, with love I may be nourished, and love may keep me completely nailed within You, so that nothing, inside and outside of me, may dare to divert me and take me away from Love, O Jesus!

Reflections and Practices

In this hour, abandoned by His Eternal Father, Jesus Christ suffered such a burning fire of love as to be able to destroy all possible and imaginable sins, and to enflame with His love all creatures, even from millions and millions of worlds, and the lost souls of hell if they were not eternally obstinate in their evil. Let us enter into Jesus, and after we have penetrated into His whole interior, in His most intimate fibers, in those heartbeats of fire, in His intelligence which was as though enflamed, let us take this love and clothe ourselves inside and out with the fire that burned Jesus. Then, coming out of Him and pouring ourselves into His Will, we will find there all creatures. Let us give the love of Jesus to each one of them, and touching their hearts and minds with this love let us try to transform them completely into love. Then, with the desires, with the heartbeats, with the thoughts of Jesus, let us form Jesus in every creature’s heart. And then we will bring to Him all creatures who have Jesus in their hearts, and we will place them around Him, saying: ‘O Jesus, we bring You all creatures with as many Jesuses in their hearts to give You relief and comfort. We have no other way to give relief to your love other than to bring every creature into your Heart!’ By doing this, we will give true relief to Jesus, since the flames that burn Him are such that He keeps repeating: ‘I burn, and there is nobody who takes my love. O please, give Me relief, take my love and give Me love!’

In order to conform to Jesus in everything, we must go back into ourselves, applying these reflections to ourselves: in all that we do, can we say that there is a continuous flow of love running between us and God? Our life is a continuous flow of love which we receive from God; if we think, there is a flow of love; if we work, there is a flow of love. The word is love, the heartbeat is love; we receive everything from God. But do all these actions run toward God with love? Does Jesus find in us the sweet enchantment of His love running toward Him, so that, enraptured by this enchantment, He may overflow with us with more abundant love?
If we have not placed the intention of running together in the love of Jesus in all that we have done, we will enter into ourselves and ask Him forgiveness for causing Him the loss of the sweet enchantment of His love toward us.

Do we let ourselves be worked by the divine hands, as the Humanity of Jesus Christ let Itself be worked? We must take everything that happens within ourselves, which is not sin, as divine crafting. If we do not do so, we deny the glory to the Father, we make divine life escape, and we lose sanctity. Everything we feel within ourselves - inspirations, mortifications, graces - is nothing other than a crafting of love. Do we take those things as God wants? Do we give Jesus the freedom to work, or by taking everything in a human manner and as meaningless, do we rather reject the divine crafting, forcing Him to bend His arms? Do we abandon ourselves in His arms as though we were dead in order to receive all the blows which the Lord will dispose for our sanctification?
My Love and my All, may your love inundate me everywhere, and burn all that is not yours. Let my love run always toward You, to burn away all that may sadden your Heart.

Nishant Xavier · « **Reply #6 on:** April 11, 2019, 11:19:47 AM »

From 10 P.M. to 11 P.M.
The second hour of agony in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Prayer of Preparation

Introductory Prayer for the Agony in the Garden

O my sweet Jesus, one hour has already passed since You came to this Garden. Love took primacy over everything, making You suffer, all at once, everything which the executioners will make You suffer through the whole course of your most bitter Passion. Even more, Love compensates for it, and reaches the point of making You suffer what they cannot do to You, in the most interior parts of your Divine Person.

O my Jesus, I see you are already staggering, and yet you want to walk. Tell me, O my Lord, where do you want to go? Oh, yes, I understand: you are going to your beloved disciples. I want to go with you too, to hold you up if you stagger.

O my Jesus, here is another bitterness for your heart: they have fallen asleep. Always compassionate, you call them. You wake them; and with paternal love you admonish them, recommending vigilance and prayer to them. Then you return to the garden, but your heart is pierced with another wound. In this wound, O my love, I see all the stabbings caused by souls consecrated to you. Because of temptations, or state of soul, or their lack of mortification, instead of watching and praying to come closer to you, they let themselves go. Then, drowsy, instead of progressing in love and in union with you, they fall back. How I sympathize with you, O passionate lover! And I make reparation to you for all the unthankfulness of your most faithful ones. These are the offenses which most sadden your adorable heart, whose bitterness makes you become delirious.

O love without end, your love, which is already boiling in your veins, overcomes everything and forgets everything. I see you prostrate on the ground. You are praying, making reparation, offering yourself to the Father, and trying to glorify him in all things, for the offenses committed against him by creatures. O my Jesus, I too prostrate myself with you, and together with you I intend to do what you are doing.

But, O my Jesus, what do I see? I see You already burdened with all the sins of the world—our miseries, weaknesses, and enormous crimes; our shocking ingratitude, dreadful injustice, and brutal cruelty; our hatred, massacres, blasphemies, heresies, schisms, and abysmal human wickedness. They drive You onward and oppress You; they wound You and crush You. And what do You do? The blood that is boiling in your veins faces all these offenses, it bursts the veins and pours out in ample streams. It bathes your entire person, and runs down onto the ground, giving blood for offenses, life for death. O my love, what a pitiful state you are reduced to! You are already dying. My good Jesus, my sweet life, please, don't die! Raise your face from this ground which you have bathed with your most precious blood.

Come to my arms! Let me die in your place as I embrace You! But I hear the faltering and dying voice of my gentle Jesus, saying:

“Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.”

My gentle Jesus, this is the second time that I hear You say these words. O how your tortured voice pierces my heart! O Jesus, all the rebellions of creatures come before you. You see that“Fiat Voluntas tua,” which should have been the life of each creature, rejected by almost everyone, for which, instead of finding life they find death. And wanting to give life to everyone and make a solemn reparation to the Father for the rebellions of creatures, you repeat three whole times:

“Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me—the cup of all the souls that are lost by withdrawing from our Will. Oh! How bitter this cup is for me! Yet, not my will but yours be done.”

But as you say this, the bitterness is so exceedingly intense that it reduces you to the extremes. You are agonizing, and are in the act of exhaling your last breath. O my good Jesus, since you are in my arms, I too want to unite with you, to make reparation and give you compassion for all the offenses and sins which are committed against your most holy Will. And at the same time, I want to pray you that I may always do your most holy Will in everything. Let your Will be my breath and my life. May it be my heartbeat, my heart, my thought, my life, and my death.

But, I beg You, my Jesus, do not die! Where would I go without You? To whom would I turn? Who else could help me? Everything would be finished for me. Ah, do not leave me. Keep me always with You. Let me never be separated from You even for an instant. Rather, let me soothe You, make reparation to You, and console You for everyone—because I see that sins of all kinds burden You. They weigh upon You; and they Therefore, my Love, I kiss your most holy head. But, what do I see? All the evil thoughts; and You feel disgust for them. For your most sacred head, each evil thought is a thorn which pricks You bitterly. Ah, the crown of thorns which the Jews will place upon You cannot be compared with these! How many crowns of thorns the evil thoughts of creatures place upon your adorable head, to the point that your Blood drips everywhere, from your forehead and from your hair!

Jesus, I compassionate You, and would like to place upon You as many crowns of glory; and in order to soothe You, I offer You all the angelic intelligences and your own intelligence, to give You an act of compassion and of reparation for all. O Jesus, I kiss your sorrowful eyes. I see in them all the evil gazes of creatures that make tears of Blood stream down your Face.

I offer You my compassion, and, in union with your Love, I want to soothe your eyes by showing You all the beauties of Heaven and earth. Jesus, my Lord, I kiss your most sacred ears. But what do I hear? In them I hear the echo of horrendous blasphemies, cries of vengeance, and slander. The voices of all souls resound in your most chaste ears.

Oh insatiable Love, I compassionate You, and I want to console You by making resound in it all the harmonies of Heaven, the most sweet voice of dear Mama, the ardent accents of Magdalene, and of all the loving souls. Jesus, my Life, I want to impress a more fervent kiss on your face, whose beauty has no equal. This is the face which the angels do not dare look away from, such is the beauty that enraptures them. And yet, creatures defile it with spit, they strike it with their hands and they trample it under their feet.

My love, what boldness! I would like to shout so loud until they run away! I sympathize with you. And to make reparation for these insults I go before the Most Holy Trinity, to ask for the kiss of the Father and of the Holy Spirit, and for the incomparable caresses of their creative hands. I also go to our heavenly mother to get her kisses, the caresses of her maternal hands, and her profound adorations. Finally, I go to all the souls consecrated to you. And I offer you all this, to make reparation for the offenses committed against your most holy face.

My sweet Good, I kiss your most holy mouth, embittered by horrible blasphemies, by the nausea of drunkenness and gluttony, by obscene discourses, by prayers done badly, by evil teachings, and by all the evil that man does with his tongue.

Jesus, I compassionate You, and I want to sweeten your mouth by offering You all the angelic praises and the good use of the tongue made by many holy Christians. My oppressed Love, I kiss your neck, and I see it loaded down with ropes and chains, because of the attachments and the sins of creatures. I compassionate You, and in order to relieve You, I offer You the indissoluble union of the Divine Persons; and fusing myself in this union, I extend my arms toward You, and forming a sweet chain of love around your neck, I want to remove the ropes of the attachments, which almost suffocate You; and to console You, I press You tightly to my heart. Divine Fortress, I kiss your most holy shoulders. I see them lacerated, and your flesh almost torn to pieces by the scandals and the evil examples of creatures.

I compassionate You, and in order to relieve You, I offer You your most holy examples, the examples of the Queen Mama, and those of all the saints. And I, O my Jesus, letting my kisses flow over each one of these wounds, want to enclose in them the souls who, by force of scandals, have been snatched from your Heart, and so rejoin the flesh of your Most Holy Humanity. My labored Jesus, I kiss your breast, which I see wounded by coldness, lukewarmness, lack ofreciprocity and ingratitude of creatures. I compassionate You, and in order to relieve You, I offer You the reciprocal love of the Father and the Holy Spirit and the perfect mutual love of the Three Divine Persons.

And plunging into your love, O my Jesus, I want to shelter You in order to reject the new blows that creatures throw at You with their sins; and taking your love, I want to wound them with it, that they may never again dare to offend You; and I want to pour it upon your breast, to soothe You and to heal You.

My Jesus, I kiss your creative hands. I see that all the bad actions of creatures, as so many nails, pierce your most holy hands. So, they are run through, not by three nails as on the cross, but by as many nails as the evil works which creatures do. I compassionate You, and to give You relief, I offer You all the holy works, and the courage of the martyrs in giving their blood and life for love of You. In sum, O my Jesus, I would like to offer You all the good works, in order to remove from You the many nails of the evil works. O Jesus, I kiss your most holy feet, always untiring in searching for souls. In them You enclose all the steps of creatures; but You feel many of them run away, and You would want to stop them. At each of their evil steps, You feel a nail being driven into You, and You want to use their very nails in order to nail them to your love; and the pain You feel, and the effort You make in order to nail them to your love is so intense and so great, that You tremble all over. My God and my Good, I compassionate You, and in order to console You, I offer You the steps of the good religious and of all the faithful souls, who expose their lives in order to save souls. O Jesus, I kiss your Heart.

You continue to agonize, not for what the Jews will make You suffer, but for the pain which all the offenses of creatures cause You.

In these hours You want to give primacy to love, the second place to all sins, for which You expiate, repair, glorify the Father, and placate the Divine Justice; and the third to the Jews. In this way You show that the passion which the Jews will make You suffer will be nothing but the representation of the double, most bitter passion which love and sin make You suffer. And this is why I see, all concentrated in your Heart: the lance of love, the lance of sin; and you wait for the third one, the lance of the Jews. Your Heart, suffocated by love, suffers violent movements, impatient rushes of love, desires which consume You, and burning heartbeats, which would want to give life to every heart. And it is exactly here, in your Heart, that You feel all the pain that creatures cause You, who, with their evil desires, disordered affections, profaned heartbeats, instead of wanting your love, look for other loves.

Jesus, how much You suffer! I see You faint, submerged by the waves of our iniquities. I compassionate You, and I want to soothe the bitterness of your Heart, pierced three times, by offering You the eternal sweetnesses and the most sweet love of dear Mama Mary, as well as those of all your true lovers.

And now, O my Jesus, let my poor heart draw life from your Heart, that I may live only with your Heart; and in each offense You will receive, let me be ever ready to offer You a relief, a comfort, a reparation, an act of uninterrupted love.

Reflections and Practices.

During the second hour in Gethsemane, all the sins of all times—past, present and future—present themselves before Jesus, and he takes them upon himself in order to give complete glory to his Father. So, Jesus Christ expiated, prayed, and felt all our moods in His Heart without ever ceasing to pray. Do we always pray, in whatever mood we may be —cold, hard, tempted? Do we give Jesus the pains of our souls as reparation and relief in order to copy Him completely, thinking that each mood of ours is a pain of Jesus? We must place it around Him as a pain of Jesus, to compassionate Him and relieve Him. And if possible we must say to Him: ‘You have suffered too much. Take rest, and we will suffer in your place.’

Do we get discouraged, or do we remain steadfastly at Jesus' feet, giving him everything we suffer, so that he can find his own humanity in us? In other words, do we serve as Jesus' humanity? What did the humanity of Jesus do? It glorified his Father, it atoned and pleaded for the salvation of souls. Now, do we have these three intentions of Jesus in everything we do, so as to be able to say that we enclose the complete humanity of Jesus Christ in ourselves? In our moments of darkness, do we place the intention of making the light of truth shine in others? And when we pray with fervor, do we place the intention of melting the ice of many hearts hardened in sin? My Jesus, in order to compassionate You and relieve You from the total exhaustion in which You find Yourself, I rise up to Heaven and make your own Divinity my own; and placing It around You, I want to move all the offenses of creatures away from You.

I want to offer you your beauty to drive away from you the ugliness of sin; your holiness to drive away from you the horror of all those souls that make you feel such repugnance because they are dead to grace; your peace to drive away from you the dissensions, rebellions and agitations of all creatures; your harmonies to refresh your ears offended by the waves of so many evil voices.

My Jesus, I intend to offer you as many divine acts of reparation as offenses you receive. They assault you as if they wanted to put you to death, and with your own acts I want to give you life. Then, O my Jesus, I want to cast a wave of your divinity over all creatures, so that at your divine touch they will no longer dare to offend you. O Jesus, this is the only way I will be able to give you compassion for all the offenses you receive from creatures.

O Jesus, my dear life, may my prayers and my pains always rise up toward heaven to make the light of grace rain on everyone, and to absorb your own life into myself.

Nishant Xavier · « **Reply #7 on:** April 13, 2019, 12:54:16 PM »

Preparation before Each Hour:

O my Lord Jesus Christ, prostrate in your divine presence, I implore your most loving heart to allow me to enter into the sorrowful meditation of the twenty-four hours of your passion, in which, for love of us you wanted to suffer so much in your adorable body and in your most holy soul, even to death on the cross. O give me help, grace, love, profound compassion, and understanding of your sufferings as I now meditate this Hour.

For those hours which I cannot meditate, I offer you the will I have to meditate them; and I propose to meditate them with my intention during all the hours in which I must dedicate myself to my duties, or sleep.

Accept, O merciful Lord, my loving intention, and let it be beneficial for me and for all, as if I effectively and in a saintly way accomplished what I desire to do.

I give You thanks, O my Jesus. I thank You for calling me to union with You in prayer. To please You, I take your thoughts, your tongue, and your Heart. I want to pray with them. I want to fuse myself in your Will and in your Love. I extend my arms to embrace You, I rest my head on your Heart— and I begin….

The Seventh Hour: 11 PM to Midnight

My dear Jesus, my heart can't bear it any longer: I look at you and see that you continue to agonize. Streams of blood are flowing from all over your body, and so profusely that, unable to stand any longer, you fall into a pool of blood. O my love, my heart breaks to see you so weak and exhausted! Your adorable face and your creative hands rest on the ground and become stained with blood. It seems to me that at the rivers of iniquity which creatures send you, you want to give rivers of blood to drown these offenses in it, and with this, give each creature the assurance of your pardon.

But, please, O my Jesus, rise; what You suffer is too much. Let it be enough for your Love! And while my lovable Jesus seems to be dying in His own Blood, Love gives Him new life. I see Him move with difficulty. He stands up, and soaked as He is with blood and mud, He seems to want to walk, but not having strength, He can barely drag Himself.

Sweet Life of mine, let me carry You in my arms. Are You perhaps going to your dear disciples? But what is not the sorrow of your adorable Heart in finding them asleep again! And You, with trembling and feeble voice, call them:

“My sons, do not sleep! The hour is near. Do you not see how I have reduced Myself? Oh please, help Me, do not abandon Me in these extreme hours!”

And almost staggering, You are about to fall near them, while John extends his arms to sustain You. You are so unrecognizable that if it were not for the gentleness and tenderness of your voice, they would not have recognized you. Then, recommending that they watch and pray, you return to the garden, but with a second wound in your heart. In this wound, O my love, I see all the sins of those souls that, in spite of the manifestation of your favors in the form of gifts, kisses and caresses, in the nights of trial forget about your love and your gifts, and remain as it were, drowsy and sleepy, thus losing the spirit of continuous prayer and watchfulness.

My Jesus, how true it is that after having seen you and having tasted your gifts, great strength is necessary to stand firm when deprived of them. Only a miracle can make such souls endure the test. So, while I sympathize with you for these souls, whose neglect, levity and offenses are the most bitter to your heart, I beg you: If they should take even a single step which could displease you in the least, surround them with so much grace that will stop them, so that they may not lose the spirit of continuous prayer.

My gentle Jesus, as you return to the garden, it seems that you cannot go on. Your face is covered with blood and dirt, but you raise it to heaven and repeat for the third time:

“Father, if it is possible, let this chalice pass from me. Holy Father, help me! I need comfort. It is true that, because of the sins taken upon myself, I am nauseating, loathsome and the least among men before your infinite majesty. Your justice is roused to anger against me. But look at me, O Father: I am always your Son, who is one with you Please, Father, help me, have pity on me! Do not leave me without comfort!”

Then I seem to hear you, O my tender love, calling your dear mother for help:

“Sweet mother, hold me tightly in your arms as you did when I was a child. Give me that milk I used to take from you, to refresh me and to sweeten the bitterness of my agony. Give me your heart which was perfect contentment for me. My mother, Mary Magdalene, dear apostles, all you who love me: help me! Comfort me! Do not leave me alone in these extreme moments. Everyone, gather around me. Comfort me with your company and your love.”

Jesus, my love, who can bear to see you in such extremes? What heart could ever be so hard that it would not break, seeing you so drowned in your own blood? Who would not shed streams of bitter tears, hearing the sorrowful words with which you seek help and comfort? My Jesus, console yourself. Now I see the Father who is sending you an angel for comfort and help, so that you can come out of this state of agony and be able to turn yourself over to the Jews. While you are with the angel, I will go around heaven and earth. You will permit me to take this blood which you have shed, so that I can give it to all men as the pledge of the salvation of each, and bring back to you in exchange, the comfort of their affections, heartbeats, thoughts, steps and deeds.

My heavenly mother, I come to you so that together we may go to all souls to give them Jesus' blood. Gentle mother, Jesus wants comfort, and the greatest comfort we can give him is to bring him souls. Mary Magdalene, come with us. All you angels, come and see how Jesus has been reduced. He wants comfort from everyone, and he finds himself in such a state of prostration that he will not refuse anyone.

O light of the sun, come to cast out the darkness of this night to give Jesus comfort. O stars, with your flickering rays, come down from Heaven. Come, to give Jesus comfort. Flowers of the earth, come with your fragrances. Birds, come with your singing. Come, elements of the earth, to comfort Jesus. Come, O sea, to refresh and wash Jesus. He is our Creator, our Life, our All. Come, all, to comfort Him, to give Him homage as our sovereign Lord.

But, oh, Jesus is not looking for lights, stars, flowers and birds. He wants souls, souls! My gentle good Jesus, here is everyone together with me. Your dear mother is near you. Please do rest in her arms. It will be a comfort for her as well, to press you to her bosom, for she has shared abundantly in your sorrowful agony. Mary Magdalene is here too, as well as all the loving souls of all centuries. O Jesus, please accept them, and say a word of forgiveness and of love to everyone. Bind them all in your love so that no soul may ever escape you again.

But, ah, it seems to me that You say, O daughter, how many souls flee Me by force and fall into eternal ruin! So how can my sorrow be soothed—if I love a single soul as much as I love all souls together?

Conclusion of the Agony

Agonizing Jesus, while it seems that your life is about to be extinguished, I can already hear the death-rattle of the agony. Your beautiful eyes are eclipsed by approaching death; all your most holy members have gone limp. Many times I can hear that you are not breathing. I feel my heart break for the pain. I embrace you and feel you are cold. I shake you but you give no signs of life. Jesus, are you dead?

Afflicted Mama, Angels of Heaven, come to cry over Jesus, and do not permit that I continue to live without Him. Ah, I cannot! I press Him more tightly to myself, and I hear Him taking another breath —and then, again, He gives no sign of life! I call Him: “Jesus, Jesus, my Life, do not die!”

But I already hear the clamor of your enemies, who are coming to take You. Who will defend You in your state?

Roused, He seems to rise from death to life. He looks at me and says:

“Child, are you here? Have you not been a witness of my pains and of the many deaths I suffered? Then know, O daughter, that in these three hours of most bitter agony, I have enclosed in Myself all the lives of creatures and have suffered all their pains and their very deaths, giving to each one my own Life. My agonies will sustain theirs; for their sake, my suffering and death will change into a fountain of sweetness and of life. How much souls cost Me! Were I at least requited! You have seen that while I was dying, I would return to breathe again: those were the deaths of the creatures that I felt within Me!”

My panting Jesus, since You also wanted to enclose my life in You, and therefore also my death, I pray You, for this most bitter agony of yours, to come to my assistance at the moment of my death. I have given You my heart as refuge and rest, my arms to sustain You, and all of my being at your disposal; and — oh, how gladly I would give myself into the hands of your enemies, to die in your place!

Come, O life of my heart, at that moment, to return to me all I have given You: your company, your Heart as bed and rest, your arms as support, your labored breath to alleviate my labors; in such a way that, in breathing, I will breathe through your breath which, like purifying air, will purify me of any stain, and will dispose me to enter the eternal beatitude.

Even more, my sweet Jesus, then You will give your very Most Holy Humanity to my soul, so that, in looking at me, You may see me through Yourself; and in looking at Yourself, You may find nothing for which to judge me. Then You will bathe me in your Blood; You will clothe me with the candid garment of your Most Holy Will; You will adorn me with your Love, and giving me the last kiss, You will let me take flight from earth unto Heaven.

And now I pray you to do for all the dying, what I have asked for myself. Hug them all in your embrace of love. And giving them the kiss of union with yourself, save them all and do not permit anyone to be lost.

My saddened, good Jesus, I offer you this hour in memory of your passion and death, to disarm the just wrath of God for so many sins, to obtain the conversion of all sinners, for peace among peoples, for our sanctification, and in suffrage for the souls of purgatory.

Now I see that your enemies are approaching, and you want to leave me to go meet them. Jesus, permit me to impress a kiss on your lips, which Judas will dare to kiss with his infernal kiss. Let me wipe your face, bathed in blood, which is about to be struck repeatedly and covered with spit. Press me close to your heart, and never permit me to be separated from you. I will follow you. Bless me.

Reflections and Practices.

In this third hour in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus asked for help from heaven, and his pains were so numerous that he even asked for comfort from his disciples. Now, do I always ask for help from heaven in any circuмstance, pain or misfortune? And if I turn to creatures as well, do I do so in an orderly way, going to those who can piously comfort me? Am I at least resigned if I don't receive those comforts I was hoping for, making use of the indifference of creatures to abandon myself even more in Jesus' arms?

Jesus was comforted by an angel. Now, can I say that I am Jesus' angel, by being near him to comfort him and take part in his bitternesses? In order to be able to be a true angel to Jesus, I must receive my pains as pains sent to me by him, and so, as divine pains. Only then can I dare to comfort a God so embittered. Otherwise, if I take pains in a human way, I cannot use them to comfort this Man-God, and therefore I cannot be His angel.

In the sufferings that Jesus sends me, it seems like he sends me the chalice too, into which I must pour the fruit of these sufferings. And these pains, suffered with love and resignation, will be transformed into the sweetest nectar for Jesus. And I will go to my suffering Jesus and offer the chalice that He sent me, and my sorrows now turned into sweetness. Like an Angel, I will bring it to his lips that He may drink it, to comfort Him and soothe Him. In every sorrow I will then say to myself, “Jesus is calling me to be an Angel close to Him. He wants my comfort and, for this reason, He makes me share in his sorrows.

Jesus, my Love, in my suffering, I search for your Heart to rest, and in your suffering I wish to make reparation with mine. In this exchange, may I be your Angel of consolation.

Thanksgiving Prayer after the Agony in the Garden:

O my sweetest Lord, I thank you for being pleased to have me in your company at least for an hour during your tremendous agony in the garden. Oh, my good Jesus, how little comfort did you find in me. Yet, your infinite love and the overflowing charity of your merciful heart make you find relief even in the least act of compassion that the creature shows you. I will never forget the sight of your adorable person trembling, struck down, crushed, humiliated in the dust, and all covered with the blood you sweat, in the dark horror of Gethsemane! O Jesus, I have experienced that to be with you in your sufferings, to feel even one drop of the distressing bitterness of your divine heart is the greatest fortune which anyone can have on earth.

O Jesus, I gladly renounce all vain and earthly things. I only want you, my oppressed, suffering, afflicted Lord. From this garden, to Calvary, I always want to give you my faithful and sweet company.

O Jesus, make me be captured with you, and dragged to the courts with you. Let me share in the abuses, the insults, the spit and the slaps your enemies are going to cover you with. Take me with you from Pilate to Herod and back to Pilate again. Tie me to the column with you, and let me feel a part of your scourgings. Jesus, pierce me with some of your thorns. Let me be condemned to death by crucifixion with you: you, as victim of love for me, and I as victim of atonement for my sins.

Give me the portion of the Cyrenian, to follow you to Calvary; and there, let me be nailed to the cross with you, and then agonize and die with you.

O sorrowful mother, you have given me help to sympathize with agonizing Jesus in the garden. Help me now to be crucified with you on the same cross of Jesus, and to know how to offer him the most worthy reparations with the same merits of his passion and death on the cross. Amen.

Nishant Xavier · « **Reply #8 on:** April 14, 2019, 09:47:01 AM »

The Eighth Hour: Midnight to 1 A.M - Jesus is betrayed by Judas and arrested by the Temple Guard:

My Jesus, we have already reached midnight. I hear your enemies approaching. Composing Yourself, drying your Blood, and feeling strengthened by the comfort You have received, You return to your disciples. You call them and admonish them; and, taking them with You, You go to meet your enemies. In this way with your promptness You make reparation for my slowness, unwillingness, and laziness in working and suffering for your Love.

But, O my gentle love, what a moving scene I see! The first to meet you is wicked Judas who comes up to you, throws his arms around your neck, greets you and kisses you. And you, my ardent love, do not refuse to kiss those infernal lips. You embrace him and press him to your heart, wanting to snatch him from hell by giving him new demonstrations of love.

My Jesus, how is it possible not to love You? The tenderness of your Love is so great that it should jerk every heart into loving You —and yet You are not loved! My Jesus, with this kiss, You make reparation for all the betrayals, pretenses, and deceptions worked under the cloak of friendship and sanctity, especially by consecrated souls. And with this kiss, You ask and obtain pardon for every and any penitent sinner that returns, humbled, to your most holy Heart.

O how sweetly the words that You spoke to Judas descend into my Heart:

“Friend, why have you come?”

Ah, it seems as though You address the same words to me—not in calling me “Friend,” but with the sweet name of “child,” saying, My daughter, for what have you come? You say it to hear me answer You, “Jesus, I come to love You.” “Why have you come?”, You repeat to me when I wake up in the morning; “Why have you come?”, if I pray; “Why have you come?”, You repeat to me in the Holy Host, if I come to receive You into my heart. What a beautiful call for me and for all!

But how many, to your “Why have you come?”, answer: “I come to offend You!” Others, pretending not to hear You, give themselves to all kinds of sins, and answer your “Why have you come?” by going to hell! How much compassion I feel for You, O my Jesus! I would like to take the very ropes with which your enemies are about to bind You, in order to bind these souls and spare You this sorrow.

But, again, I hear your most tender voice which says, as You go to meet your enemies:

“Who are you looking for?”

And they answer:

“Jesus the Nazarene”.

And You, to them:

“I Am”

Oh, what wickedness and ingratitude! Instead of humbling themselves and lovingly throwing themselves at your feet to ask your forgiveness, abusing your goodness and despising your graces and miracles, they lay their hands on you, and with ropes and chains, tie you and immobilize you. They throw you to the ground, trample you under their feet and tear out your hair. And, with inconceivable patience, You remain silent—suffering in atonement for the offenses of sinners, who do not surrender, but harden their hearts still more in spite of your miracles. With your ropes and chains, You rend the chains of our sins and bind us with the sweet chains of love.

You lovingly correct Peter who wants to defend You even by cutting off Malchus’ ear. In this way, You want to make reparation for good works done without holy prudence and for those who fall into sin through excessive zeal.

My most patient Jesus, these ropes and chains seem to add something more beautiful to your Sacred Humanity. Your Forehead becomes more majestic, so much so that it even attracts the attention of your enemies. Your eyes radiate more light—and your Holy Face reflects a supreme peace and sweetness that even charms your executioners. With a few gentle and penetrating words, You make them tremble, and if they dare to offend You it is only because You permit it.

O bound and enchained love, are you going to be tied for me, to show an even greater love for me, and then permit that I, your little child, be without chains? No, no. Tie me with your most holy hands, using your own ropes and chains. So, while I kiss your divine forehead, I pray you to bind my whole being: all my thoughts, my eyes, my ears, my tongue, my heart, my affections. And at the same time, tie all creatures, so that, feeling the sweetness of your loving chains, they will not dare to offend you any more.

My most tender Jesus, You have already handed Yourself over to your enemies, giving them the power to do whatever they wish with You. My Jesus, I, also, put myself in your Hands so that You may freely do with me whatever pleases You. United with You, I want to follow your Will, share in your reparations, and suffer your pains.

I want to remain always in your Presence so that there is no offense I do not repair, no bitterness I do not soothe, no spittle or insult that You receive that I do not cover with my kisses and caresses.

In your falls, my hands will always be ready to lift You. I want to be with You always and I do not wish to leave You abandoned. And to be sure of this, fuse me with Yourself. Then I will be in your mind, in your gaze, in your Heart, and in all of You—so that what You do, I will also do. In this way, I will always have You for a faithful companion and none of your pains will be able to elude me, so that I can give You my love on behalf of all creatures.

My dear good Jesus, it is already one o'clock in the morning, and my mind is beginning to drift asleep. I will do all I can to stay awake, but if sleep should take me by surprise, I will leave myself in you to follow whatever you do. What is more, you yourself will do it for me. So, my Jesus, I leave my thoughts in you to defend you from your enemies; my breath as escort and company; my heartbeat to always tell you that I love you, and to make good for the love which the others do not give you; the drops of my blood to make reparation, and to give back to you the honors and the esteem that the others will take from you with their insults, spit and slaps.

O my Jesus, embrace me and bless me. If You want me to sleep, make me sleep in your adorable Heart. As your heartbeats intensify in Love and suffering, may they awaken me often, so that our communion will never be broken.

Reflections and Practices.

Seeing the Will of the Father in his enemies, Jesus readily handed himself over to them.

When I am deceived or betrayed by creatures, am I as ready to forgive as Jesus was? Do I take all the wrongs I receive from creatures, from the hands of God? Am I ready to do everything Jesus wants from me? In the crosses and the mistreatment I receive, can I say that my patience is similar to Jesus' patience?

My chained Jesus, let your chains bind my heart and keep it steadfast, ready to suffer whatever you want."

Why the world has lost its balance: "The world has lost its balance because it has lost the thought of the Passion of Jesus. It has done as a child who has not desired to recognize his mother or like a disciple who ignores his teacher and does not want to listen to his lessons. They will become pain to themselves, terror and sorrow for their society. This is what man has become: terror and pain, pain without mercy.

Vol. 11, February 2, 1917
As I was in my usual state, I found myself outside of myself, and I found my always lovable Jesus, all dripping with blood, with a horrible crown of thorns, looking at me with difficulty through the thorns. He told me:

"My daughter, the world has become unbalanced because it has lost the thought of my Passion. In darkness, it has not found the light of my Passion which would illuminate it; and as it would make known to it my love and how much souls cost Me, it might turn to loving the One who has truly loved it; and the light of my Passion, guiding it, would put it on its guard against all dangers. In weakness, it has not found the strength of my Passion which would sustain it. In impatience, it has not found the mirror of my patience which would infuse in it calm and resignation; and in the face of my patience, feeling ashamed, it would make it its duty to dominate itself. In pains, it has not found the comfort of the pains of a God which, sustaining its pains, would infuse in it love of suffering. In sin, it has not found my sanctity which, placing itself in front of it, would infuse in it hate of sin.

Ah! man has made an abuse of everything, because in everything he has moved away from the One who could help him. This is why the world has lost balance. It behaved like a child who no longer wanted to recognize his mother; or like a disciple who, denying his master, no longer wanted to listen to his teachings, or learn his lessons. What will happen to this child and to this disciple? They will be the sorrow of themselves, and the terror and sorrow of society. Such has man become – terror and sorrow; but a sorrow without pity. Ah! man is getting worse and worse, and I cry over him with tears of blood!"

Nishant Xavier · « **Reply #9 on:** April 15, 2019, 07:59:02 AM »

The Ninth Hour: 1 A.M. to 2 A.M

From 1 a.m. to 2 a.m.
Pushed from a rock, Jesus falls into the Cedron Stream.

Prayer of Preparation

My beloved Good, my poor mind follows You between vigil and sleep. How can I leave myself prey to sleep, when I see that everyone leaves You and runs away from You? The Apostles themselves, the fervent Peter, who a little while ago said he wanted to give his life for You; the beloved disciple whom, with so much love, You allowed to rest upon your Heart – ah, they all abandon You, and leave You at the mercy of your cruel enemies!

My Jesus, You are alone! Your most pure eyes look around to see if at least one of those favored by You is following You to prove to You his love and to defend You. And as You see that no one – no one has remained faithful to You, your Heart catches, and You burst into crying. You feel more pain for the abandonment of your most faithful ones, than for what the very enemies are doing to You.

My Jesus, don't cry, or else let me cry together with you. But my gentle Jesus seems to say to me: “Ah, my child, let us weep together for the lot of so many souls consecrated to me, who, for little trials or for incidents of life, no longer attend to me and leave me alone; for so many others, timid and cowardly, who, for lack of courage and trust, abandon me. Let us weep for so many priests, who, not finding any profit in sacred things and in the administration of the sacraments, do not attend to me. For others who preach, celebrate and hear confession for love of their own interests and selfglory, so that while it seems they are around me I remain ever alone. O my child, how hard this abandonment is for Me! Not only do my eyes weep, but my Heart bleeds! O I pray you to make reparation for my bitter pain by promising never to leave Me alone.”

Yes, O my Jesus, with the strength of your Divine Will and the help of your grace, I promise never to leave you alone. But as you weep over the abandonment of your dear ones, O Jesus, your enemies spare you no possible outrage. Bound and tied as you are, my good Jesus, so that you can't even take a step, they trample you and drag you through those ways full of rocks and thorns. So, there is no movement they make you do which does not make you stumble on the rocks and be pricked by the thorns. O my Jesus, while they drag You, I see that You leave a trail with your Precious Blood and with the golden hairs that they tear from your Head. My Life and my All, permit me to gather your steps and bind them to all the steps that creatures take to offend You, even at night. Indeed, some use the night to offend You even more than the daylight—some with meetings, others with pleasures or theaters, and still others with sacrilegious thefts. My Jesus, I unite with You to make reparation for all these offenses.

O my Jesus, we are now at the Cedron Stream, and the wicked Jews shove you in. As they do this, they make you strike so hard against a rock there, that from your mouth you shed your most precious blood, leaving that rock marked with it. Then they pull you down into those foul waters, making them enter into your ears, into your mouth, into your nose. O unsurpassable love! You are soaked and, as it were, cloaked by those foul, nauseating and cold waters. In this state, you realistically represent the pitiful state of creatures when they commit sin. Oh, how they are covered inside and out by a cloak of filthiness which disgusts heaven and whoever may see them, and draws down on themselves the thunderbolts of the divine justice! O life of my life, could there ever be a greater love? To strip us of this mantle of filthiness, you permit your enemies to drag you down into this stream. And so you make reparation for the sacrileges and the coldness of the souls that receive you sacrilegiously, forcing you to enter their hearts and making you feel, more than you do from the stream, all the nausea of their souls!

You also permit that these waters penetrate deep into your bowels; so much so, that the enemies, fearing that You may be drowned, in order to spare You for greater torments, lift You up. But You are so disgusting that they themselves feel nauseated to touch You. My tender Jesus, You are now out of the stream. My heart cannot stand to see you bathed in these nauseating waters like this. I see that you are trembling from head to foot because of the cold. You look around, searching with your eyes for that which you do not do with your voice: at least someone to dry you, clean you and warm you—but in vain. No one is moved to compassion for you. Your enemies ridicule and mock you, your dear ones have abandoned you, and your gentle mother is far away because the Father has so disposed it!

O Jesus, here I am! Come into my arms. I want to weep until I form a bath to wash you. With my hands I want to clean you and order your disheveled hair. My love, I want to enclose you in my heart and warm you with the warmth of my affections. I want to perfume you with my continuous desires. I want to make reparation for all these offenses, and unite my life to yours to save all souls. I want to offer you my heart as a resting place, to restore you some from the pains you have suffered up to now. Then, we will resume the way of your passion together.

Reflections and Practices

In this hour, Jesus places Himself at the mercy of his enemies, who go so far as to throw Him into the Cedron stream. But gracious Jesus looks at them lovingly and endures everything for love of them. Do I cast myself upon God’s mercy? Can I say that I am like a rubber ball in the hands of my Jesus, not intent on what I am suffering, but on what my Jesus wants from me? Have I ever thought about the purpose of a rubber ball? It’s for playing, and very often Jesus likes to play with a soul, holding her in his hands just as he holds a ball, now squeezing it, now hitting it, now throwing it in the air or on to the ground, and the ball does not speak, allowing Jesus to do what He will with it.

Similarly, we must endure everything that Jesus wants from us and not mind if, like a little ball in Jesus’ hands, we feel pain as we are hit and struck, as long as we keep Jesus amused, since He knows how profitable this is for us, and how He will reward us in this and the next life. Sometimes, Jesus steps on the ball with his feet, showing that He does not care for it, and the soul, pressing close to his divine feet, suffers Jesus’ humiliation and indifference. At other times, He wants to hold the ball to his Heart, and if the soul was glad to have been Jesus’ toy, both in humiliation and in suffering, the loving Jesus will amuse her in his own Heart, and will reveal to her the contentments of his divine Heart. In my weaknesses and failures, Am I ready to pick myself up again and throw myself into the arms of Jesus? Tormented Jesus was thrown into the Cedron Stream and experienced suffocation, nausea, and disgust.

Do I detest every stain and shadow of sin? Am I ready to shelter Jesus in my heart so that He does not experience the disgust that other souls cause Him through sin, consoling Him for the many times I myself have caused it?

My tormented Jesus, do not spare me in anything, but grant that I may be the object of your loving, divine games.

Thanksgiving after each hour

My Beloved Jesus, You have called me to this Hour of your Passion to keep You company—and I have come. I seem to have heard you, anguished and sorrowful, praying, making reparation and suffering. With the most loving, eloquent voices you were pleading for the salvation of souls. I tried to follow You in everything. Now, I owe You my heartfelt “Thank You” and “I bless You.”

Yes, O Jesus, I repeat my “Thank You” thousands and thousands of times. I bless You for all that You have done and suffered for me and for everyone. I thank You and I bless You for every drop of Blood You shed. I thank You for every breath, for every heartbeat, and for every step. I thank You for every word, glance, affliction, and outrage that You had to endure. In everything, O my Jesus, I intend to give You my “Thank You” and “I bless You.” O my Jesus, let my soul send forth a continuous flow of thanksgiving and blessings to You—to draw down upon all of us the abundant flow of your blessings and graces. Please, O Jesus, press me to your Heart, and with your most holy hands seal every particle of my being with your “I bless you”, so that nothing other than a continuous hymn to You may come from me.

So I leave my being within Yours, to follow you in all you do; better still, you will be so alive in me that I will leave my thoughts in you to defend you from your enemies, my breaths as a faithful companion, my heartbeat to recall my “I love you,” and to give you the love that the others refuse to give you; I will give you the drops of my blood to atone and make up the honor and regard that your enemies deny you with their insults and offenses. I will leave my entire being as a guard.

My dear love, while I must go about my duties, I will remain in your heart. I am afraid to leave It. Is it not true that You will keep me here? Our heartbeats will continually touch so that You will give me life, love, and close and inseparable union with You.

Jesus, if You see that I am about to run from You at times, let your heartbeat hasten in mine. Let your hands press me closer to your Heart; let your eyes look at me and pierce me with rays of fire so that I may feel your presence and immediately return to union with You.

O my Jesus, be on guard so that I may not exhaust You. I beg You to watch over me. O give me a kiss, embrace me, and bless me! Give me your most holy hands so that I can do all that I must do united with You! My Jesus, give me the kiss of Divine Love, embrace me and bless me; I will kiss your intoxicating Heart, and take my rest in You."

The Next Hour: The Tenth Hour: 2 A.M. to 3 A.M: Jesus is presented to Annas.

Some Testimonies from the Saints on the wonderful benefits and amazing spiritual good that comes from meditating on the Passion: "
We would like to add a few remarks made by some of the saints that refer to the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ and we hope that they be useful to your soul.

Saint Alphonsus de Liguori, MEDITATIONS ON THE PASSION OF JESUS CHRIST,Introduction.

"He who desires", says St. Bonaventure, "to go on advancing from virtue to virtue, from grace to grace, should meditate continually on the Passion of Jesus." And he adds that "there is no practice more profitable for the entire sanctification of the soul than the frequent meditation of the sufferings of Jesus Christ."

http://www.passioiesus.org/en/santos/citas_santos.htm

CathInfo.com

Author Topic: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour. (Read 1704 times)

Nishant Xavier

Re: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour.

Nishant Xavier

Re: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour.

Nishant Xavier

Re: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour.

Nishant Xavier

Re: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour.

Nishant Xavier

Re: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour.