The Virgin Mary in the public life of Christ

Zacharias is a priest. Joseph is not. But you must note how he, who is not a priest, has a more heavenly soul than the priest. Zacharias thinks in a human way, and in a human way he expounds the Scriptures because he allows himself to be led by his good human sense, and it is not the first time he does so. And he was punished for it. But he relapses, although less gravely. With regard to John’s birth he said: ‘How can that happen, if I am old, and my wife is barren?’ Now he says: ‘To smooth His way, Christ is to be brought up here.’ And with that subtle root of pride that persists also in the best people, he thinks that he can be useful to Jesus. Not useful in the sense that Joseph wanted to be, by serving Him, but by teaching Him… God forgave him, because of his good intention. But did the ‘Master’ need teachers?

I endeavoured to make him see the truth of the prophecies. But he felt he was more learned than I was and made use of such feeling in his own way. I could have insisted and outdone him. But — this is the other point I wanted to draw your attention to — I respected the priest because of his dignity, not because of his knowledge.

• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• The Virgin Mary
• Zacharie (father of John the Baptist)

• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• Locations - Jerusalem
• Places - Jerusalem Temple
• Summary of EMV
• Symeon (Jerusalem prophet)
• The Virgin Mary

I recognise our Mother. She is always the same: pale and blonde, agile and so kind in Her behaviour. She is dressed in white, with a pale blue mantle and a white veil on Her head. She is carrying Her Child so carefully.

• The Virgin Mary

32.1 I see a couple of people departing from a very modest house. A very young mother comes down an outside staircase holding in her arms a child wrapped in a white cloth.

I recognise our Mother. She is always the same: pale and blonde, agile and so kind in Her behaviour. She is dressed in white, with a pale blue mantle and a white veil on Her head. She is carrying Her Child so carefully.

Joseph is waiting for Her at the foot of the steps with a little grey donkey. Joseph is dressed entirely in light brown: both his tunic and his mantle are the same colour. He looks at Mary and smiles at Her. When Mary arrives near the little donkey, Joseph places the animal’s bridle on his left arm, he takes for a moment the Child, Who is sleeping peacefully, and thus allows Mary to sit more comfortably on the donkey’s saddle. He then hands Jesus back to Her and they set off.

Joseph is walking beside Mary, holding the bridle all the time and ensuring that the donkey goes straight ahead without stumbling. Mary is holding Jesus in Her lap, and lest He might feel cold, She spreads the edge of Her mantle over Him. Joseph and Mary speak very little but they often smile at each other.

The road, which is not a model road, winds along a country made barren by the season of the year. Only a few other travellers meet them on the road or overtake them.

• Holy Family
• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• The Virgin Mary

32.2 Then I see some houses and the walls around a town. They go in through a gate and start walking on the ground which is all broken up, and very irregular. Progress is now much more difficult, both because the traffic causes the donkey to stop very often and because the holes, where stones are missing, make the poor animal jerk continuously and thus Mary and the Child are also disturbed.

The road is not flat. It is uphill, although very slightly. It is a narrow road running between high houses with small narrow low doors and only a few windows on the road. High above, the sky can be seen peeping with many thin blue strips between the houses, or rather between the terraces. Down in the street there are many people and much shouting. They meet other people on foot or riding donkeys or leading loaded donkeys and a crowd following a cumbersome camel caravan. At a certain moment, a patrol of Roman legionaries passes by with a great noise of hooves and arms and they disappear beyond an arch built across a narrow stony road.

Joseph turns left along a wider and more pleasant road. I can see the embattled town walls, with which I am already familiar, at the end of the street.

Mary dismounts from the little donkey near a gate where there is a kind of stall for other donkeys. I say «stall» because it is a kind of shed, or better still, a kind of shed spread with straw; there are also some poles with rings to which the animals are tied.

Joseph gives some coins to a little man who has gone up to him and with them he buys some hay and he draws a pail of water from a rustic well in the corner. He then feeds the donkey. He joins Mary and they both enter the enclosure of the Temple.

At first they turn their steps towards an arcade where the merchants are, to whom Jesus later will give a good lashing: the vendors of lambs and doves and the money-changers. Joseph buys two little white pigeons. He does not change any money: he obviously has what is required.

They then make for a side door, with eight steps, as all the doors seem to have, because the centre of the Temple is raised above the surrounding ground. The door opens into a great hall like the doors of our houses in towns, to give you an idea, only this one is larger and more ornate. In the hall there are two kinds of altars on the right and on the left, that is two rectangular constructions, the purpose of which I do not understand at first. They are like low basins, because the internal part is lower than the external rim, which is a few centimetres higher.

A priest approaches them, I do not know whether he was called by Joseph or whether he did so of his own accord. Mary offers Her two little pigeons and since I know their fate, I turn my eyes elsewhere. I look at the decorations of the very heavy portal, of the ceiling and of the hall. But I get the impression, by a side glance, that the priest sprays Mary with some water. It must be water, because I do not see any stains on Her dress. Then Mary, Who had given the priest a handful of coins together with the two pigeons (I had forgotten to mention that), goes into the real Temple, in the company of the priest.

I am watching everything. It is a most ornate place. Sculptured angels’ heads, palms and decorations adorn the columns, the walls and the ceiling. Light comes in through strange long narrow windows, obviously without panes, cut diagonally compared to the walls. I suppose the idea is to keep the rain out.

32.4 Mary moves forward to a certain point. She then stops. A few metres from Her, there are more steps on top of which there is a kind of altar, beyond which there is another construction.

I now realise that I thought I was in the Temple, instead I was in the part surrounding the real Temple, that is the Holy, beyond which no one can proceed, apparently, except the priests. What I therefore thought was the Temple, is but an enclosed vestibule, which on three sides encircles the Temple, in which the Tabernacle is enclosed. I do not know whether I have made myself understood. But I am neither an architect nor an engineer.

Mary offers the Child, Who has woken up and is turning His innocent eyes towards the priest, with the astonished look of infants a few days old. The priest takes Him in his arms and raises Him, with arms fully stretched out, towards the Temple, standing against the kind of altar placed on top of the steps. The rite is over. The Child is handed back to His Mother and the priest goes away.

• Holy Family
• Jesus as a child
• Jewish purification - Presentation of a newborn child at the Temple
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• The Virgin Mary

There is a group of onlookers. Amongst them a little old man, bent with age and limping, makes his way leaning on a stick. He must be very old, I would say over eighty. He goes near Mary and asks Her to give him the Child for one moment. Mary satisfies him, smiling.

Simeon, whom I always thought belonged to the sacerdotal class, and is instead a simple believer, at least according to his garments, takes the Child and kisses Him. Jesus smiles at him with the typical smile of sucklings. He seems to watch him inquisitively, because the old man is crying and laughing at the same time and his tears form a sparkling embroidery running along his wrinkles and beading his long white beard, towards which Jesus stretches His little hands. He is Jesus, but still a child, and whatever moves in front of Him, draws His attention so that He wants to get hold of it to see what it is. Mary and Joseph smile and so do all the others who praise the beauty of the Child.

I hear the words[1] of the holy old man and I see the astonished gaze of Joseph, the deeply moved look of Mary as well as the glances of the little crowd, partly surprised and moved, partly laughing at the words of the old man. Amongst the latter there are some bearded and conceited members of the Sanhedrin, who shake their heads giving Simeon an ironic pitying look. They must think he is mad due to his old age.

32.6 Mary’s smile fades into paleness when Simeon mentions sorrow. Although She knows, that word pierces Her soul. She goes closer to Joseph, to be comforted, She presses Her Child to Her breast passionately and like a thirsty soul, She takes in the words of Anna of Phanuel, who being a woman, has mercy on Her suffering and promises Her that the Eternal Father will soothe the hour of sorrow with a supernatural strength. «Woman, He Who gave a Saviour to His people, will not lack the power to send His angel to console Your tears. The great women of Israel never lacked the help of the Lord and You are far greater than Judith and Jael. Our God will give You a heart of the most pure gold to withstand the storm of sorrow, so that You will be the greatest woman in Creation: the Mother. And You, Child, remember me in the hour of Your mission.»

And the vision ends here.

• Anne de Phanuël (mistress of the Virgin Mary in the Temple)
• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• Suffering and pain of the Virgin Mary
• Symeon (Jerusalem prophet)
• The Virgin Mary

• Jesus as a child
• Locations - Bethlehem of Judea
• Summary of EMV
• The Virgin Mary

33.1 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. In the room, there were Mary’s loom and some needlework. I think Mary had stopped working to give the Child suck and change His swaddling bands, — I should say His clothes, because He was already a few months old. I would say six, or eight months at the most. Perhaps Mary was thinking of resuming Her work after the Child had fallen asleep.

It was evening. The sun was setting and there were many small golden clouds in the clear sky. Some herds were going back to their folds, browsing on the last grass of a flowery meadow and bleating with their heads uplifted.

The Child was about to fall asleep. He seemed a little restless, as if He had teething trouble, or some other minor pain of childhood.

33.2 I wrote the song on a piece of paper as best as I could, in the dim light of a very early morning, and I will now copy it.

«Little golden clouds — seem the herds of the Lord

On the meadow full of flowers — another herd is watching.

But if I had all the herds — that exist in the world,

The lambkin dearest to Me — You would always be.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

Many glittering stars — are twinkling in the sky.

May Your sweet gentle eyes — shed no more tears.

Your eyes of sapphire — are the stars of My heart.

Your tears make Me cry — oh! cry no more.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

All the sparkling angels — that are in Heaven,

Form a wreath around You, innocent Child — enraptured by Your face.

But You’re crying for Your Mummy — Mummy, Mummy, Mum.

To sing Your lullaby — lulla, lulla, lu.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

The sky will soon be pink — and dawn will soon be back,

And Mummy had no rest — to ensure You do not cry.

“Mamma” when awake You’ll call Me — “Son” I will reply.

A kiss of love and life — I’ll give you with My breast.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

You do need Your Mummy — also if You dream of Heaven.

Come, do come! Under My veil — I will make You sleep.

My breast is Your pillow — Your cradle My arms,

Do not fear, My dear — I’m here with You…

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

I’ll always be with You — You’re the life of My heart…

He is sleeping… like a flower — Resting on My breast…

He is sleeping… Be quiet! — His Father perhaps He sees,

And the sight wipes the tears — Of my sweet Jesus.

He Sleeps, sleeps, sleeps, sleeps,

And He cries no more…»

33.3 It is impossible to describe the graceful charm of the scene. It is only a mother lulling Her little one. But she is that Mother, and He is that Little One! You can therefore imagine what gracefulness, what love, what purity, what Paradise is in this little, great, sweet scene, the memory of which makes me so happy and is confirmed by the melody I continuously sing, so that you may also hear it. But I do not have the most pure silvery voice of Mary, the virginal voice of the Virgin!… And I will sound like a broken organ. It does not matter. I will do my best. What a beautiful pastoral it would be, to be sung round the Crib at Christmas!

Mary at first rocked the wooden cradle very slowly. Afterwards, when She saw that Jesus was not calming down, She took Him in Her arms, sitting near the open window, with the cradle beside Her and swinging lightly to the rhythm of the song, She repeated the lullaby twice, until Jesus closed His little eyes, He turned His head round on to His Mother’s breast and fell asleep thus, His little face resting on the cosy warmth of His Mother’s breast, one hand on Her breast near His rosy cheek, the other one relaxed on Her lap. Mary’s veil shaded Her Holy Creature.

Then Mary got up most carefully and laid Jesus in the cradle, She covered Him with small linens, She spread a veil to protect Him from flies and the fresh air, and She remained contemplating Her sleeping Treasure. She held one hand over Her heart, while the other was leaning on the cradle, ready to rock it if necessary, and She smiled happily, slightly bent while darkness and silence were falling on the earth and were invading Her little virginal room.

What peace! What beauty! I am so happy!

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?

• Jesus as a child
• Lullaby of the Virgin Mary
• The Virgin Mary

«Little golden clouds — seem the herds of the Lord

On the meadow full of flowers — another herd is watching.

But if I had all the herds — that exist in the world,

The lambkin dearest to Me — You would always be.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

Many glittering stars — are twinkling in the sky.

May Your sweet gentle eyes — shed no more tears.

Your eyes of sapphire — are the stars of My heart.

Your tears make Me cry — oh! cry no more.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

All the sparkling angels — that are in Heaven,

Form a wreath around You, innocent Child — enraptured by Your face.

But You’re crying for Your Mummy — Mummy, Mummy, Mum.

To sing Your lullaby — lulla, lulla, lu.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

The sky will soon be pink — and dawn will soon be back,

And Mummy had no rest — to ensure You do not cry.

“Mamma” when awake You’ll call Me — “Son” I will reply.

A kiss of love and life — I’ll give you with My breast.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

You do need Your Mummy — also if You dream of Heaven.

Come, do come! Under My veil — I will make You sleep.

My breast is Your pillow — Your cradle My arms,

Do not fear, My dear — I’m here with You…

Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep,

Cry no more…

I’ll always be with You — You’re the life of My heart…

He is sleeping… like a flower — Resting on My breast…

He is sleeping… Be quiet! — His Father perhaps He sees,

And the sight wipes the tears — Of my sweet Jesus.

He Sleeps, sleeps, sleeps, sleeps,

And He cries no more…»

• Words of the Virgin Mary

• Anne of Bethlehem
• Herod the Great
• Jesus as a child
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• Locations - Anne of Bethlehem Hospital House
• Locations - Bethlehem of Judea
• Summary of EMV
• The Virgin Mary
• Three Kings (Epiphany)