Writing the Work

My head is very heavy with fatigue. And then, especially with dictations, I forget the words at once, although the commands remain recorded in my mind and illuminate my soul. But details fade away immediately. If after one hour I had to repeat what I heard, with the exception of one or two main sentences, I would not know anything else. Visions, on the contrary, remain clear in my mind because I had to watch them myself. I hear dictations but I see visions. Therefore they remain clear in my mind with fatigue in following them through their various phases.

I was hoping there would be a dictation on yesterday’s vision. But nothing.

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10.11 A note of mine. All day yesterday I thought I was going to see the news of the death of Her parents being given to Mary by Zacharias, I do not know why. I also thought, in my way, that Jesus would have dealt with the point «remembrance of God by the saints». This morning, when the vision started, I said to myself: «Here we are, they will now tell Her that She is an orphan» and my heart was already trembling because I would have experienced my own sadness of these past days. Instead there has been absolutely nothing of what I thought I was going to see or hear. Not even one word by mistake. I am very happy about this because it confirms that there is nothing of my own in this work, not even an honest suggestion with regards to one situation. It all comes from a different source. My continuous fear ceases… until the next time because I shall always be afraid of being deceived and deceiving.

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Last night, before falling asleep, I saw Mary crying, bent over the unction stone, on the dead body of Our Redeemer. She was on His right-hand side, with Her back to the opening of the sepulchre grotto. The torches lit up Her face so that I could see Her poor face ravaged by sorrow and washed by tears. She would take Jesus’ hand, caress it, warm it against her cheeks, kiss it, stretch its fingers out… kiss them one by one, those poor motionless fingers. Then She would caress His face, would bend down to kiss His open mouth, His half-open eyes, His wounded forehead. The reddish light of the torches made the wounds of the tortured body appear more real and rendered the cruelty of His torture and the realism of His death more true and authentic.

And I remained in contemplation until my mind was clear. When I came out of my drowsiness, I prayed and I lay down to go to sleep. Then the above vision began. But Mother said to me: «Don’t move. Just look. You will write it tomorrow.» In my sleep I dreamt it all over again. When I woke up at

6.30 I saw what I had already seen both when I was awake and in my sleep. And I wrote while I was seeing. Then you came and I asked you if I could add the following. They are various sketches of Mary’s stay in Zacharias’ house.

• Passion of Jesus Christ - Entombment
• Passion of Jesus Christ - Suffering and pain of the Virgin Mary
• Suffering and pain of the Virgin Mary
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23.1 This vision of peace descends from Heaven, amid the disgusting things the world now offers us, and I do not know how that can be, because I am like a little twig at the mercy of the wind in my continuous conflicts with human wickedness so discordant with what lives within me.

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• Excerpts from the 1985 edition
• Writing the Work

This morning I had a very gentle awakening. I was still dozing when I heard the most pure voice I have ever heard sing a slow lullaby very sweetly. The song was so slow and archaic that it sounded like a Christmas pastoral. I followed the melody and the voice, enjoying them more and more until I awoke completely. I then fully understood what was taking place, and I said: «Hail, Mary, full of Grace!» because it was Mother singing. And She raised Her voice after saying to me: «I greet you, too. Come and be happy!»

And I saw Her… in the house in Bethlehem, in Her room, intent on lulling Jesus to sleep. (...) 33.4 It is not a grand vision and it may be considered quite useless, if compared with the other visions, as it does not reveal anything special. I know. But it is a real grace to me and I consider it such, because it makes my spirit placid, pure, loving, as if it were created again by Mother’s hands. I think that you will like it as well, in that sense. We are «little children». Better thus! Jesus likes us. Let the others, who are learned and complicated, think what they like and let them say that we are «childish». We do not mind, do we?

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38.1 Jesus says:

«Come, little John, and see. Held by My hand which will lead you, go back to the years of My childhood. And what you see will have to be included in the Gospel of My boyhood, where I want also the vision of the Family’s stay in Egypt to be put. You will put them in this order: the Family in Egypt, then the first working lesson given to the Child Jesus, then this one which you are about to describe, the scene of My coming of age (promised today, 25th November), lastly the vision of Jesus among the doctors in the Temple at His twelfth Feast of Passover. What you are now going to see is not without a reason. On the contrary it enlightens details of My early years and relationship among relatives. And it is a present for you, in the feast of My Regality, as you feel the peace of the house in Nazareth being transfused into you whenever you see it. Write.»

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39.1 I have received a promise from Him. I was saying to Him: «Jesus, I would like to see the ceremony of Your coming of age!» And He replied: «I will give it to you as soon as we can be ‘ourselves’ without upsetting the mystery. And you will put it after the scene of My Mother, My teacher and the teacher of Judas and James, shown to you recently (29th October). You will put it between this one and the Dispute in the Temple.

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41.10 I have here two things to tell you and which will certainly be of interest to you. I had decided to write them as soon as I came out of my sopor. But as there is something more urgent, I will write them later.

(...) What I wanted to tell you at the beginning is this.

Today you were asking me how I had been able to find out the names of Hillel, Gamaliel and of Shammai.

It is the voice that I call «the second voice» which tells me these things. A voice even less audible than Jesus’ and the voices of other people who dictate. These are voices, I have told you and I repeat it, which my spiritual hearing perceives as being identical to human voices. I hear them as kind or angry voices, strong or weak, joyful or sad, as if one spoke very close to me. The «second voice», instead, is like a light, an intuition that speaks in my spirit. «In» not «to» my spirit. It is an indication.

So, while I was approaching the group of the disputant parties and I did not know who was the illustrious personage who was disputing so heatedly beside an old man, this internal ‘something’ said to me: ‘Gamaliel – Hillel’. Yes. First Gamaliel and then Hillel. I have no doubt about it. While I was wondering who they were, the internal monitor pointed out the third unpleasant individual to me, just as Gamaliel was calling him by name. And I was thus able to learn who was the man with the pharisaic appearance.

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42.1 This vision appears to me imperiously, while I am busy correcting the copy-book, and precisely the dictation on pseudo-religions of present days. I will write it as I see it.

• Writing the Work