Send CathInfo's owner Matthew a gift from his Amazon wish list:
https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/25M2B8RERL1UO

Author Topic: The 24 Hours of the Passion: Prayers and Meditations revealed for each hour.  (Read 1705 times)

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

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

Prayer of Preparation

Jesus, be always with me. Sweet Mama, let us follow Jesus together.

My Jesus, divine sentinel, you are in my heart watching over me. And not wanting to remain alone without me, you wake me and make me find myself together with you in Annas' house.

You are now at that point in which Annas interrogates you concerning your doctrine and your disciples. To defend the glory of the Father, O Jesus, you open your most sacred mouth, and with a ringing and dignified voice, respond:

“I have spoken in public and everyone who is here has heard me.”

At your dignified words everyone trembles. But, oh, what wickedness! Wanting to honor Annas, a servant with an ironclad hand comes up to you and slaps you so hard that you stagger, and your most holy face turns livid.

Now, my gentle life, I understand why you woke me. You were right; who would sustain You at this moment, as You are about to fall? Your enemies burst into satanic laughter, whistling and clapping, applauding an act so unjust. And You, staggering, have no one to lean on. My Jesus, I embrace You. And forming a wall with my body to support You, I offer You my cheek—to come quickly and boldly to bear any pain for your Love. I suffer this outrage with You, and I make reparation with You for the cowardice of so many souls who easily become discouraged; for those who fail to speak the truth out of fear; for the lack of respect due to priests, and for all murmuring.

My suffering Jesus, I see that Annas is sending you to Caiphas. Your enemies shove you down the stairs. My love, in this painful fall you make reparation for those who fall into sin at nighttime, taking advantage of the darkness. And you call heretics and unbelievers to the light of the faith.

I want to follow you in these reparations as well, and I send you my sighs to defend you from your enemies, until you reach Caiaphas. Continue to watch over me while I am asleep, and wake me when you need me. Now, give me a kiss, and bless me; and I will kiss your heart and continue my sleep in it.

Reflections and Practices.


Jesus, brought before Annas, is questioned by him about His doctrine and about His disciples. To glorify the Father, he answered regarding his doctrine, but to avoid offending charity he did not touch on his disciples.

Now when I am asked to glorify the Lord, am I fearless and courageous, or am I subject to human respect? I must always speak the truth, even in the presence of those who are influential.

In my conversations, do I always seek the glory of God? Do I seek God’s glory by enduring everything patiently as Jesus did? Do I always avoid speaking badly of my neighbors, excusing their faults when I hear others speaking ill of them?

Jesus watches over our heart. But do I keep watch over Jesus’ Heart so that He receives no offense for which I am unwilling to make reparation? In everything I do, am I always alert so that my every thought, glance, word, affection, heartbeat, and desire stay like sentinels around Jesus, keeping watch over his Heart and offering reparation for all the offenses It receives? To make this reparation to his Heart, do I ask Jesus to keep watch over our every act and to help us keep watch over our hearts?

Every act that we perform in God is a Divine Life that we acquire within us. Since we are very limited and God is immense, we are incapable of enclosing God within our menial acts. It is necessary, then, that we multiply these acts as much as possible at least to increase our capacity to understand and love.

When my Jesus calls me, am I ready to respond? God’s call can be heard in many ways: through inspiration, reading good books, and by good example. One may even feel it tangibly through the attraction of grace and even in intemperate changes of weather.

My sweet Jesus, may your voice always echo in my heart. May everything that surrounds me both internally and externally be a continuous voice that always calls me to love You. And may the harmony of your divine voice keep me from listening to any distracting human voice.


Prayer of Thanksgiving

The Eleventh Hour: From 3 to 4 AM
Jesus in the house of Caiaphas.

Prayer of Preparation

My afflicted and abandoned Good, while my weak nature sleeps in your sorrowful Heart, my sleep is often interrupted by the pangs of love and sorrow of your Divine Heart. Between vigil and sleep, I hear the blows that they give You, so I wake up and I say:

"My poor Jesus, abandoned by everyone! There is no one who takes your part. But from within your Heart I offer You my life as support for You, as they knock You about."

Then I drowse off again. But another pang of love of your divine heart wakes me, and I feel my ears deafened by the insults they give you, by the whisperings, the shouts and the stirring of people.

My love, why is everyone against you? What have you done, that, like so many rabid wolves, they want to tear you apart? I feel my blood freeze as I hear the preparations your enemies are making. I tremble and become sad, while thinking about what I can do to defend you.

Having me in his heart, my sad Jesus presses me closer to himself, and says:

“My child, I have done no wrong, and [at the same time] I have done everything. I have committed the “crime” of love which contains all sacrifices—love, which is of immeasurable cost. We are still at the beginning. Remain in my heart, observe everything, love me, be silent, and learn. Make your chilled blood flow in my veins to give relief to my blood which is all ablaze. Make your shivering flow in my members so that, unified in me, you may become steadfast; and warm yourself so you can feel part of my pains, as well as acquire strength by seeing me suffer so much. This is the best way to defend me. Be faithful and attentive.”

My dear love, your enemies are making so much noise that I cannot go back to sleep. The shoves are becoming more violent. I can hear the rattling of the chains. They have bound you so tightly that blood is dripping from your wrists, and it stains those streets. Remember that my blood flows in yours, and as yours is poured out mine kisses it, adores it, and makes reparation. May it be light to all who offend you at nighttime, and magnet to draw all hearts around you.

My love and my all, as they drag you, and the air is deafened by shouts and whistles, you now come before Caiaphas. You are all meek, modest, humble; your sweetness and patience is such as to terrorize even your enemies; and Caiphas, full of rage, would want to devour You. O how easily sin and innocence are distinguished!

My Love, You stand before Caiphas to be condemned as the guiltiest of criminals. Caiaphas now asks the witnesses what your crimes are. Oh, he would have done better to ask about your love! Someone accuses you of one thing and another accuses you of something else, blundering and contradicting each other. While they are accusing you, the soldiers at your side pull your hair. They slap your most sacred face so hard that it echoes in all the room. They twist your lips. They beat you. You remain silent and suffer. When you look at them, the light of your eyes descends into their hearts, and unable to resist, they go away from you. But others take their place to torture you more.

Peter's three denials

In the midst of so many accusations and outrages, I see You become more attentive. Your Heart pounds violently as if it were going to burst for the pain. Tell me, my afflicted Good, what is it? I see that your love is so great that You anxiously await that which your enemies are doing to You, and You offer it for our salvation. With perfect calmness, your heart makes reparation for slander, hatred, false testimony, the wrong done to the innocent with premeditation, for those who offend you by instigation of their leaders, and for the offenses of the clergy.

United to You, I join in your reparations, and I feel a new sorrow grieving your most tender Heart—one never felt before. Tell me, tell me, what is it? Share everything with me, O Jesus.

“My child, do you want to know what it is? I hear Peter's voice saying that he does not know me. Then he swears again and again that he does not know me; and finally, vehemently cursing, he affirms he does not know me.

O Peter, how is it that you do not know me? Don't you remember how many goods I have showered on you? If the others make me die of pain, you make me die of sorrow! Oh, what a mistake it was to follow me from a distance, and then expose yourself to the occasions of sin!”

My denied Good, how quickly the offenses of your dearest ones can be recognized! O Jesus, I want to make my heartbeat flow within Yours to soothe the harrowing spasm that You suffer. And my heartbeat in Yours swears loyalty and love to You, and repeats and swears thousands and thousands of times that I know You. But your love still has not calmed down, and you are seeking out Peter with your eyes. Before your loving gazes, your eyes swollen with tears for his denial, Peter is moved, and he weeps as he goes away. Having saved him, you calm down again, and you make reparation for the sins of the popes and of the leaders of the Church, especially for those who expose themselves to the occasions of sin.

Meanwhile, your enemies continue to accuse you. Seeing that you do not answer their accusations, Caiaphas says to you:

“I solemnly order you under oath to the living God, tell me: Are you really the true Son of God?”

My Love, you always have the word of truth on your lips. And so, assuming an attitude of supreme majesty, with a resonant but gentle voice that strikes everyone and makes the demons themselves plunge into the abyss, you respond:

“You have said it. Yes, I am the true Son of God. And one day I will descend on the clouds of heaven to judge all nations.”

At your creative words, everyone becomes silent. They are shuddering and frightened. But Caiphas, after a fearful moment, recovers. More furious than a wild beast, he says to everyone:

“What need have we of more witnesses? He has uttered a grave blasphemy. Why should we wait to condemn Him? He is already deserving of death!”

To give greater force to his sacrilegious words, he rends his garments with such rage and fury that all scream together, as one man, “He is guilty and must die! He is guilty and must die!” They attack You, my good Jesus. One hits You and slaps You, while another spits in your face. Still others trample You under their feet. They torment You in so many ways that the earth trembles and the heavens are shaken.

My Love and my Life, how they torment You! My heart breaks for sorrow... Oh, permit me to come out of your sorrowful heart to face all these outrages in your place. Yes, if it were possible, I would snatch you from the hands of your enemies, but you do not want me to because the salvation of everyone demands this. So I am compelled to resign myself.

My sweet love, permit me to clean you, arrange your hair, remove the spit and wipe away the blood, to then enclose myself in your heart, because I see that Caiaphas is tired and wants to retire, and that he is turning you over to the soldiers.

So, I bless you. And I ask your blessing on me, and that you give me the kiss of love. I enclose myself in the furnace of your divine heart to go to sleep. I place my mouth on your heart so that as I breathe I may kiss you. And by the difference of your heartbeats—more or less suffering—I will notice whether you suffer or rest. And now, forming wings with my arms to defend you, I embrace you, press myself close to your heart, and fall asleep.

Reflections and Practices.

Jesus is brought before Caiphas and unjustly accused. He is subjected to unprecedented torture and when He is interrogated, He speaks only the truth. When the Lord permits others to calumniate and unjustly accuse me, do I seek God alone who knows my innocence, or do I beg for the esteem and honor of other creatures? Do my lips always speak the truth? Am I the enemy of all deception and lies? Do I patiently endure the mockery and humiliations that others cause me? Am I ready to offer my life for the sake of their salvation?

My sweet Jesus, how different I am from You! I humbly ask You, grant that my lips always speak the truth, to wound the hearts of those who hear me and to guide all souls to You!

Prayer of Thanksgiving


The Twelvth Hour: From 4 A.M. to 5 A.M.
Jesus in the midst of the soldiers.

Prayer of Preparation

My most sweet Life, Jesus, while sleeping, clinging to your Heart, I often felt the pricks of the thorns which pierce your Most Holy Heart. Wanting to wake up together with You, that You may have at least one who notices all of your pains and feels compassion for You, I cling more tightly to your Heart; and feeling your prickings more vividly, I wake up. What do I see? What do I hear? I would like to hide you in my heart to offer myself in your place and to receive upon myself such terrible pains, such incredible insults and humiliations. Only your love could endure such outrages. My most patient Jesus, what can you expect from such inhuman people!

Now I see that they are making fun of you. They cover your face with thick spit, and the light of your beautiful eyes is obscured by it. Then, shedding streams of tears for our salvation, you clear your eyes of that spit. But in the wickedness of their heart they cannot bear to see the light of your eyes, and so they cover them with spit again.

Others, becoming more daring in evil, open your most sweet mouth and fill it with disgusting spit, to the point that they themselves feel nausea. And since some of that spit flows away, revealing, in part, the majesty of your Face and your superhuman sweetness, they shudder and feel ashamed of themselves. In order to feel more free, they blindfold You with a miserable rag, to be able to hurl themselves, unrestrained, at your adorable Person. And so they beat You up without pity; they drag You; they trample You under their feet; they repeat blows and slaps to your Face and over your head, scratching You, tearing your hair, and pushing You from one point to another.

Jesus, my love, my heart cannot bear to see you in such pains. You want me to witness everything, while I would rather cover my eyes to avoid seeing such sorrowful scenes, capable of tearing the heart from every breast. But your love compels me to observe what is happening to you. I see that You utter not a breath, that You say not a word to defend Yourself; that You are in the hands of these soldiers like a rag, and they can do with You whatever they want. And in seeing them jumping on You, I fear You may die under their feet.

My Good and my All, the sorrow I feel for your pains is so great, that I would like to shout so loudly as to be heard up there in Heaven, and call the Father, the Holy Spirit and all the Angels; and here on earth, from one point to another, call sweet Mama first, and all the souls who love You, so that, forming a circle around You, we may prevent these insolent soldiers from drawing near You to insult You and torment You more. Together with you, we will make reparation for all the various kinds of sins committed during the night, especially for those committed during the night hours on your sacramental person, by those belonging to sects, as well as for all the sins of those souls that do not remain faithful in the night of the test.

My insulted Jesus, I see that the soldiers, drunk and tired, want to rest. My poor heart, oppressed and lacerated by all these pains of yours, does not want to remain alone with you, and feels the need for another companion.

Yes, my gentle mother, you be my inseparable companion. I clasp your maternal hand tightly and kiss it, while I ask you to strengthen me with your blessing. While together we embrace Jesus, let us rest our head on his sorrowful heart to console it. O Jesus, together with Mother Mary I kiss you and bless you. And now she and I will sleep the sleep of love on your adorable heart.

Reflections and Practices.

In this hour, Jesus stands in the midst of soldiers with composure and undaunted determination. Being the God that He is, He suffers all the abuses given by the soldiers and looks at them with so much Love that He seems to invite them to inflict even more pain.

Am I constant in the face of persistent suffering, or do I complain, become troubled, and lose peace—that peace of heart that is necessary for Jesus to dwell happily in me?

Steadfastness is the virtue that enables one to know whether God truly reigns in him. If our virtue is genuine, we will be steadfast in trials, with a constancy that is not subject to change. Only this kind of steadfastness can communicate peace to us. The more we remain steadfast in doing good, in suffering, and in working, the more we increase the space around us, wherein Jesus communicates his graces. So, if we fail to be constant, our space will be restricted and Jesus will have little or no room in which to move. But if we remain steadfast and constant, Jesus will find abundant space and will find his support and assistance in us—He will find a place to increase his grace.

If we want beloved Jesus to rest in us, let us surround Him with the same steadfastness with which He won the salvation of our souls. Defended in this manner, He will remain in our hearts to take his sweet rest.

Jesus lovingly gazed at those who mistreated Him. Do I gaze with the same love at those who offend me? Is the love that I show them so intense that, like a powerful voice penetrating their hearts, it converts them to Jesus?

My Jesus, boundless Love, grant me this love and let every pain I suffer lead souls to You.


Prayer of Thanksgiving

The Thirteenth Hour: From 5:00 A.M to 6:00 A.M


My prisoner Jesus, I have woken up, but you are not here. My heart pounds, longing for your love. Tell me, where are you? My angel, take me to Caiaphas' house. I look all around, I search everywhere but don't find you. My love, hurry: With your hands move the chains with which you have my heart bound to yours, and draw me to yourself so that I may fly to you and throw myself into your arms. Now, my love, wounded by my voice and desirous of my company, you draw me to yourself; and I see that they have put you in prison. While my heart leaps for joy to find you, I feel it wounded by the sorrow of seeing how they have reduced you.

I see you with your hands tied behind you to a column, your feet tied together, your most sacred face bruised, swollen and bleeding for the horrible slaps received. Your most holy eyes are bruised, your gaze is weary and suffering for the sleeplessness, your hair is all disheveled, your most holy person is all beaten. And what is more, you can neither help nor clean yourself because you are tied. O my Jesus, while sobbing and embracing your feet, I say to you: Oh! What have they done to you, Jesus?

Looking at me, Jesus answers:

“Come, my child, and pay attention to what you see me doing, to do it together with me, so that I can continue my life in you.”

To my amazement, I see that instead of occupying yourself with your pains, with indescribable love you concern yourself with glorifying the Father, to compensate him for our obligations toward him. And you call all souls around you, to take all their evils upon yourself and to give them every good of yours. And since we are at the dawn of the new day, I hear your gentle voice that says:

“Holy Father, I thank you for all I have suffered and for that which remains for me to suffer. As this dawn calls the day, and the day makes the sun rise, so too, let the dawn of grace appear in all hearts. And forming the day, may I, divine sun, rise in all hearts and reign over all. O Father, do you see these souls? I want to answer to you for everyone: for their thoughts, words, deeds and steps, at the cost of my blood and death.”

My Jesus, boundless love, I join with you. I too thank you for all that you have made me suffer and for what remains for me to suffer. I pray you to make the dawn of grace rise in all hearts, so that you, divine sun, may rise again in all hearts and reign over everyone.

But I also see, my sweet Jesus, that You repair for all the very first thoughts, affections and words, which, at the rising of the day, are not offered to You to honor You; and that You call to Yourself, as though in custody, the thoughts, the affections and the words of the creatures, in order to repair for them and give to the Father the glory they owe Him.

My Jesus, Divine Master, since we have one hour free in this prison and we are alone, not only do I want to do what You are doing, but I want to clean You, fix your hair, and fuse myself completely in You. So, I begin with your most holy head; and arranging your hair, I want to make reparation to you for so many minds twisted and full of earth that do not have even one thought for you. Then, fusing myself in your mind, I want to gather up all the thoughts of creatures and fuse them in your thoughts, in order to find sufficient reparation for all evil thoughts, and for so many suffocated lights and inspirations. I would make all thoughts one alone with yours, to give you true reparation and perfect glory.

My suffering Jesus, I kiss your sad and tearful eyes. With your hands tied to the column you cannot dry them or clean away the spit with which they have dirtied you. And since the position in which they have tied you is excruciating, you cannot close your weary eyes to rest. My love, how willingly I would make a bed for you with my arms, to give you rest. I want to dry your tears, ask your forgiveness and make reparation for all the times we have not had the intention of pleasing you and of looking to you to see where you wanted us to go.

And I want to fuse my eyes and the eyes of all creatures in yours, to be able to make reparation with your own eyes for all the wrong we have done with our sight. My pitiful Jesus, I kiss your most holy ears, wearied by the insults of the whole night, and much more by the echo of all the offenses of creatures, which resounds in your ears. I ask your forgiveness and I make reparation for all the times you have called us and we were deaf or we pretended not to hear you. And you, my weary Jesus, repeated the calls, but in vain. I want to fuse my ears and those of all creatures in yours to make continual, complete reparation.

My loving Jesus, I kiss your most holy face which is all bruised from the blows. I ask you pardon, and I make reparation for all the times you have called us to be victims of reparation, and we, united with your enemies, gave you slaps and spit. My Jesus, I want to fuse my face in yours to return your natural beauty to you and to make complete reparation for all the ridicule which your most holy majesty receives.

My embittered, good Jesus, I kiss your most sweet mouth bruised by the blows and parched by love. I want to fuse my tongue and that of all creatures in yours to make reparation with your own tongue for all the sins and evil discourses committed. My thirsty Jesus, I want to make all voices one with yours, so that when they are about to offend you, your voice, flowing in the voices of creatures will suffocate the voices of sin and change them into voices of praise and love.

Enchained Jesus, I kiss your neck weighed down by heavy chains and ropes which, running from your breast behind your back and passing around your arms, keep you tightly bound to the column. Your hands are tied so tightly that they are already swollen and darkened, and blood is dripping from various parts of them. My bound Jesus, permit me to free you. And if you love to be bound, I will bind you with the chains of love which, being sweet, will soothe you instead of making you suffer. And while I loose you I want to fuse myself in your neck, to be able to make reparation together with you for all attachments, and to give the chains of your love to everyone.

I fuse myself in your breast to make reparation for all the coldness of creatures and to fill the breast of all creatures with your fire, because I see you have so much that you cannot contain it. I fuse myself in your back to make reparation for all illicit pleasures and love of comfort, to give the spirit of sacrifice and the love of suffering to everyone. I fuse myself in your hands to make reparation for all evil works and for the good that is done in a bad manner or with presumption, to give the perfume of your works to everyone. Fusing myself in your feet, I enclose the steps of all creatures there, to make reparation for them. And I give your steps to everyone to make them walk with holy steps.

Now, my dear life, as I fuse myself in your heart, permit me to enclose all affections, heartbeats and desires there, to make reparation for them together with you, and to give everyone your affections, heartbeats and desires so that no one may offend you again.

But now I hear the squeaking of the key echoing in my ears. It's your enemies who have come to take you from the prison. Jesus, I am trembling, I feel myself freezing. You will be in the hands of your enemies again. What will happen to you?

I seem to hear the squeaking of the tabernacle keys as well. How many profaning hands come to open them and perhaps to make you descend into sacrilegious hearts! How many unworthy hands you are forced to be in! My prisoner Jesus, I want to be in all your prisons of love to be the spectator when your ministers take you out, and to keep you company and make reparation for the offenses you may receive.

I see that your enemies are coming, and you are greeting the rising sun—the last of your days. Loosing you, and seeing how majestic you appear, and that you look at them with so much love, in exchange they slap your face so hard that it turns red with your most precious blood.

My love, in my sorrow I ask you to bless me before you leave the prison, to give me the strength to follow you in the rest of your passion.

Reflections and Practices.

Jesus is placed in prison, bound to a column, immobilized, and smeared with spittle and mud. He searches for my soul to cleanse Him and keep Him company. Am I happy to be alone with Jesus, or do I seek the company of others? Is Jesus my only breath and my only heartbeat?

If I hold everything that is inside of me—sorrows, irritations—as if they were my own, I will never be alone with Jesus. must hold what surrounds me and even the creatures, as if they belonged to Jesus, that they may surround Him like a retinue; on the other hand, if I hold them as if they concerned me, I will never be alone with Jesus.

That is why I must lay everything, both interior and exterior, that concerns me around Jesus to keep Him company, and I shall be satisfied only with Jesus. May Jesus be my only breath, my only heartbeat. Am I careful to change all the offenses that creatures do to me into love? With Jesus in prison, do I have the strength, the promptness to jail myself in Jesus, for love of Him? To make us like Him, loving Jesus binds our souls, but how? With hardship, oppression, sorrow, and every other kind of mortification. Are we happy to be bound by Jesus in the prison where his Love places us—that is, in darkness, oppression, and even worse?

Jesus is in prison. Do I think that my prison ought to be similar to that of Jesus? Do I feel the strength and readiness to imprison myself in Jesus for his love? My afflicted Jesus yearns for my soul to untie Him and sustain Him in the sorrowful situation that confronts Him. Do I yearn only for the company of Jesus to free me from the chains of every passion and bind me to his Heart with even stronger chains? Do I place my pains around suffering Jesus to remove the spittle and mud that sinners hurl at Him?

Jesus prays in prison. Is my prayer with Jesus constant?

My enchained Jesus, You became a prisoner out of Love for me. I beg You, then, to imprison in You all that I am— my mind, my tongue, my heart—so that I will no longer be free and You will have absolute dominion over me.

 


The Fourteenth Hour: Jesus is brought before Caiaphas again, and then sent to Pilate


My suffering Jesus, you are now out of prison, but are so exhausted that you waver at every step. I want to be by your side to hold you up when I see you are about to fall.

I see that the soldiers bring you before Caiaphas. O my Jesus, you reappear in their midst like a sun, and though disfigured, you radiate light everywhere. Now I observe that Caiaphas is overjoyed to see you reduced to such a pitiful state. The rays of your light blind him even more, and in his fury he questions you again:

“So, you are really the true Son of God?”

And you, my love, your voice full of grace, with supreme majesty and your usual sweet and moving words that captivate hearts, answer:

“Yes, I am the true Son of God.”

Then, although they feel all the force of your words in themselves, suffocating everything and not wanting to know more, they cry out with one voice:

“He deserves to die! He deserves to die!”

Caiaphas confirms the death sentence and sends you to Pilate. My condemned Jesus, you accept this sentence with such love and resignation that you almost snatch it from the wicked pontiff. And you make reparation for all the sins committed deliberately and with sheer malice, and for those who instead of being sorry for the wrong they have done, rejoice and are glad for the sin itself—which blinds them and brings them to suffocate all light and grace. My life, your reparations and prayers echo in my heart, and I make reparation and pray together with you.

My tender love, having lost what little esteem they had of you, now that you have been sentenced to death, I see that the soldiers grab you. They add more ropes and chains, and tie you so tightly that your divine person can hardly move. Then, pushing and dragging you, they remove you from Caiaphas' palace.

Throngs of people are waiting for you, but not one of them to defend you. My divine sun, you go out into their midst, wanting to envelop them all in your light.

As you take your first steps, with the intention of enclosing all the steps of creatures in yours, you pray and make reparation for those who take their first steps to do wrong: In one instance to take revenge; in another to kill, to betray, to rob, or to do even worse. Oh, how all these sins wound your heart! To prevent so much evil you pray, make reparation, and offer up your whole self.

As I follow you, my sun, Jesus, I see that as you begin to descend from Caiaphas' palace you meet with Mary, our beautiful and gentle mother. Your eyes meet, wounding both of you. And although you are comforted by seeing each other, this encounter causes still new pains. For you it is a new pain to see our beautiful mother pierced, pale, and clothed in mourning. For your dear mother it is also a new suffering to see you, the divine sun, eclipsed and covered with so many outrages, weeping and shrouded in blood. But you are not able to enjoy your exchange of glances for long. With the pain of not being able to exchange even one word, your hearts say everything. You fuse yourselves in each other, but stop looking at each other because the soldiers press you on. And so, trampled and dragged you come before Pilate.

My Jesus, I join our pierced mother in following you, and I want to fuse myself together with her in you. And giving me a look of love, you bless me.

 

Reflections and Practices.

Jesus is brought at dawn before Caiphas and He courageously declares that He is the Son of God. When I go somewhere, do I allow Jesus to direct me? Is my conduct an example for others, and do my steps, like magnets, attract other souls to Jesus? Jesus’ entire life is a continuous calling to souls. If we conform ourselves to his Will—that is, if our feet call souls as we walk, if our heartbeats, echoing the divine heartbeats, harmonize together and call souls, and so on with all the rest—by doing this, we will form the same humanity of Jesus in ourselves. So, each time we call souls, it is another imprint that we receive from our Jesus. Is our life always the same, or do we change for the worse according to the encounters we have?

My Jesus, holiness beyond compare, guide me and make even my outward demeanor manifest all your divine life..