The Catholic Church

• James of Alphaeus (apostle)
• Jesus Christ
• Simon d'Alphée
• Summary of EMV
• The Virgin Mary

44.1 I see the interior of the house in Nazareth: a room which looks like a dining room, where the members of the Family take their meals and rest during the day. It is a very small room with a plain rectangular table near a chest, which is set against one of the walls. The chest also serves as a seat. Near the other walls there is a loom and a stool, and there are two more stools with a kind of bookcase on top of which there are oil lamps and other objects. A door is open onto the kitchen garden. It must be almost evening, because only some faint sun-rays are visible in the upper foliage of a tall tree, which is beginning to grow verdant in its first leaves.

Jesus is sitting at the table. He is eating and Mary is serving Him, coming and going from a little door, which leads into the room where there is a fireplace, the light of which can be seen through the half-open door.

Two or three times Jesus tells Mary to sit down… and to eat with Him. But She does not want to, She shakes Her head, smiling sadly. After serving some boiled vegetables as a first course, She brings in some roasted fish and then some rather soft cheese, like fresh cheese, round shaped, like the stones which can be seen in the beds of torrents, and some small dark olives. Some small, flat round loaves of bread – about the size of a plate – are already on the table. The bread is rather dark brown as if the bran had not been removed from the flour. In front of Jesus there is an amphora with water, and a goblet. He is eating in silence, looking at His Mother sadly but lovingly.

It is very obvious that Mary is sad at heart. She comes and goes, purely to occupy Herself. Although it is still daylight, She lights a lamp and puts it near Jesus, and while stretching out Her arm doing so, She subtly caresses Her Son’s head. She then opens a nut-brown haversack, which I think is made of pure hand-woven wool, and therefore water-resistant, She searches inside it, goes out into the little kitchen garden, walks to the far end, where there is a kind of storeroom. She comes out with some rather withered apples which have certainly been preserved from the previous summer, and She puts them into the haversack. She then takes a loaf of bread and a piece of cheese and puts them also into the haversack, although Jesus remarks that He does not want them, as there is already enough food in the satchel.

Mary then comes once again near the table, at the shorter side, on Jesus’ left hand, and looks at Him eating. She looks at Him with love and adoration. Her face is paler than usual and seems aged by pain; Her eyes are ringed and thus seem bigger, an indication of tears already shed. They also seem clearer than normal, as if they were washed by the tears welling up within, ready to stream down Her face: two sorrowful tired eyes.

44.2 Jesus, Who is eating slowly, evidently against His will, only to please His Mother, and is more pensive than usual, lifts His head and looks at Her. Their eyes meet and He notices that Hers are full of tears, and lowers His head to leave Her free to weep. He only takes Her slender hand which She is resting on the edge of the table. He takes it in His own left hand, lifts it to His cheek, rests His cheek on it and then rubs it against His face to feel the caress of the poor trembling little hand, which He kisses on its back with so much love and respect.

I see Mary taking Her free hand, Her left one, to Her mouth, as if to stifle a sob, and She then wipes with Her fingers a big tear, which has fallen from Her eye and is streaming down Her face.

Jesus carries on eating and Mary goes out quickly into the kitchen garden, where it is now almost dark, and She disappears. Jesus leans His left elbow on the table, rests His forehead on His hand, absorbed in thought. He stops eating.

He then listens and gets up. He also goes out into the kitchen garden, and after looking around, He moves towards the right-hand side of the house, and through an opening in the rocky wall, He goes into what I recognise as the carpenter’s workshop. It is now very tidy, without any boards or shavings lying about, and also the fire is out. There is the large work bench, all the tools are laid aside, and there is nothing else.

Mary is weeping, bent over the bench. She looks like a child. Her head is resting on Her folded left arm and She is crying silently, but very grievously. Jesus enters quietly and approaches Her so softly, that She realises He is there only when He lays His hand on Her lowered head, calling Her «Mother!»: in His voice there is the sound of a gentle loving reproach.

Mary lifts Her head and looks at Jesus through a veil of tears, and with both hands joined She leans on His right arm. Jesus wipes Her face with the hem of His large sleeve and then He embraces Her, clasping Her to His heart and kissing Her forehead. Jesus is majestic, He looks more manly than ever, whilst Mary looks more like a little girl, except for Her sorrow-stricken face.

«Come, Mother» Jesus says to Her, and holding Her close to Himself with His right arm, He walks into the kitchen garden, where they sit down on a bench against the wall of the house. The kitchen garden is now silent and dark, apart from the moonlight and the light coming from the house. The night is serene.

44.3 Jesus is speaking to Mary. At first I do not understand the words which are just whispered, and Mary nods Her head in assent. Then I hear: «And get Your relatives to come. Don’t stay here alone. I will be happier, Mother, and You know how I need peace of mind to fulfil My mission. You will not lack My love. I will come quite often and I will inform You in case I cannot come home when I am back in Galilee. Then You will come to Me, Mother. This hour was to come. It began when the Angel appeared to You; it is now striking, and we must live it, Mother, must we not? After we have overcome the trial, we shall have peace and joy. First, we must cross this desert as our Ancestors did, before entering the Promised Land. But the Lord God will help us as He helped them. And He will grant us His help as a spiritual manna to nourish our souls in the difficult moment of the trial. Let us say the Our Father together…» Jesus and Mary stand up and they look up to Heaven: two living victims shining in the darkness.

Jesus, slowly but with a clear voice, says the Lord’s Prayer, Stressing the words. He emphasizes the words: «Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done» spacing the two sentences from the others. He prays with His arms stretched out, not exactly crosswise, but as priests do when they say: «The Lord be with you». Mary’s hands are joined.

44.4 They then go back into the house, and Jesus, Whom I have never seen drink wine, pours some white wine into a goblet from an amphora on the bookcase and He puts it on the table. He then takes Mary by Her hand and makes Her sit beside Him and drink some of the wine, into which He dips a small slice of bread, which He gives Her to eat. His insistence is such that Mary yields. Jesus drinks the remaining wine. He then clasps His Mother to His side and holds Her thus close to His heart. Neither Jesus nor Mary was lying down as was customary in rich banquets in those times, but they were sitting at the table as we do. They are both silent, waiting. Mary caresses Jesus’ right hand and His knees, Jesus pats Mary’s arm and Her head.

44.5 Then Jesus rises, and so does Mary. They embrace and kiss each other very fondly and repeatedly. They always seem to be on the point of separating and parting, but each time Mary embraces Her Creature over and over again. She is Our Lady, but She is still a mother, a mother who must part from Her Son, and is fully aware of the final destination of His departure. Do not tell me that Mary did not suffer! Before I had some slight misgivings, now I do not believe it at all.

Jesus takes His dark blue mantle, puts it on His shoulders, and pulls the hood on to His head. He arranges His haversack across His back, in order to be free when walking. Mary helps Him, and She delays endlessly in sorting His tunic, mantle and hood, caressing Him in the meantime.

Jesus goes towards the door, after making a sign of blessing in the room. Mary follows Him and at the open door they kiss each other once again.

44.6 The road is silent and solitary, white in the moonlight. Jesus starts walking away. He turns round twice to look at His Mother, Who is leaning against the doorpost, paler than the moon’s rays, Her eyes sparkling with silent tears. Jesus moves farther and farther away along the narrow white road. Mary is still weeping against the doorpost. Then Jesus disappears round a bend of the road.

His Evangelical journey, which will end on Golgotha, has just begun. Mary goes into the house shedding tears and closes the door. She also has started Her journey which will take Her to Golgotha. And for us…

• Conversations between Jesus and Mary
• The Virgin Mary

Jesus says:

«This is the fourth sorrow of Mary, Mother of God. The first was the presentation in the Temple; the second, the flight into Egypt; the third, the death of Joseph; the fourth, My separation from Her.

As I knew the desire of your spiritual Father, yesterday evening I told you that I will hasten the description of “our” sorrows, so that they may be known. But, as you see, some of My Mother’s had already been illustrated. I explained the flight before the Presentation, because it was necessary to do so on that day. I know. You understand and you will explain the reason to the Father verbally.»

• Suffering and pain of Jesus Christ
• Suffering and pain of the Virgin Mary
• The Virgin Mary

44.9 The lesson of the contemplation of My separation is addressed especially to those parents and children that God will call upon to renounce one another for the sake of a greater love. It also applies to all those who have to face a painful renouncement.

How many such sorrowful situations you find in your lives! They are thorns on the earth and they pierce your hearts, I know. But for those who accept them with resignation – mind, I am not saying “’for those who wish them and accept them with joy”, which is already perfection; I am saying: “with resignation” – they become eternal roses. But only few people resign themselves to accepting them. Like restive little donkeys, you kick back against the Father’s will, and you jib, and you even try at times to hit good God with spiritual kicks and bites, that is, with rebellion and blasphemy.

44.10 And do not say: “I had but this good thing and God took it away. I had but this affection and God took it away!”. Also Mary, a gentle woman, with perfect love, (because in the Virgin Full of Grace also affections and sensations were perfect), also Mary had but one good thing, and one love on the earth: Her Son. The only thing left to Her. Her parents had died a long time before. Joseph had died some years earlier. Only I was left to love Her and make Her feel She was not alone. Her relatives, because of Me, of Whose divine origin they were not aware, were somewhat hostile to Her, because they considered Her a mother incapable of imposing Herself on Her Son, Who did not behave according to good common sense and turned down marriage proposals which could bring prestige to the family, as well as material help.

Her relatives reasoned according to common sense, to human sense — you call it good sense, but it is only human sense, that is selfishness — and they would have liked My life to comply with their habits. After all, they were always afraid that one day they might get into trouble because of Me, as I had already dared express certain ideas which they considered too idealistic and thought they might irritate the Synagogue. Hebrew history was full of teachings on the fate of Prophets. The Prophet’s mission was not an easy one, and often brought about death for the prophet and trouble for his kinsfolk. And there was always the fear that one day they might have to take care of My Mother.

They were therefore irritated by the fact that She did not oppose Me in anything, on the contrary, She seemed to be in perpetual adoration in front of Her Son. This conflict was to increase in the three years of My public life when it culminated with open reproaches every time they met Me in the midst of crowds and were ashamed of what they considered My mania for vexing the powerful classes. And they reproached Me and My poor Mother!

44.11 Mary was aware of the moods of Her relatives and was able to foresee their future tempers — they were not all like James, Judas and Simon or their mother Mary of Clopas — but although She knew what Her destiny was going to be during the three years of My public life, and was aware of Her destiny and Mine at the end of the three years, She did not fight back, as you do. She cried. And which mother would not have cried because of the separation from a son who loved her as I loved Mine, or because of the prospect of long days devoid of My presence in a solitary house, or because of the dreary outlook of a Son doomed to butt against the malice of guilty people who took vengeance for their guilt by offending the Blameless One to the extent of killing Him?

She cried because She was the Co-Redeemer, and because She was the Mother of mankind who were being born once again to God. And She had to cry for all the mothers who are not able to turn their motherly sorrows into a crown of eternal glory.

How many mothers there are in the world from whose arms death snatches their creatures! How many mothers there are whose sons are torn away from their sides by a supernatural will! As the Mother of all Christians, Mary cried for all Her daughters, and in Her sorrow of a bereft Mother, She cried for all Her sisters. And She cried for all Her sons, who, born of woman, were to become apostles of God or martyrs for God’s sake, because of their loyalty to God or because of man’s cruelty.

44.12 My Blood and My Mother’s tears are the mixture that fortifies those destined to a heroic fate, obliterates their imperfections and the sins they committed because of their weakness and, in addition to martyrdom, in whatever way suffered, it grants them the peace of God and then the glory of Heaven, if they suffered for God.

The missionary fathers find that mixture to be a flame that warms them in the regions covered with perpetual snow, and they find it to be a dew when the sun is scorching. Mary’s tears originate from Her charity, and they gush out from Her heart of a lily. They therefore possess the fire of virginal Charity, the Spouse of Love, and the scented freshness of virginal Purity, like the drops of water which gather in the chalice of a lily on a dewy night.

Our mixture is found by those consecrated in the desert of a well understood monastic life: it is a desert because it only lives in communion with God, whilst all other affections fade away and become pure supernatural charity: towards relatives, friends, superiors and inferiors.

It is found by those consecrated to God in the world, in the world that neither understands nor loves them, a desert also for them, as they live in it as if they were alone, so much are they misunderstood and mocked for My sake.

Our mixture is found by My dear “victims”, because Mary is the first victim for Jesus’ love, and with Her hands of a Mother and a Doctor, She gives Her followers Her tears which refreshen and urge to a greater sacrifice.

Holy tears of My Mother!

• Conditions
• Divine Will
• Family
• Family martyrdom
• Kinship of Jesus Christ
• Pain and suffering
• Parents and children
• Renunciation - Renunciation
• Seven Sorrows of the Virgin Mary
• The Virgin Mary

• Anne of Aaron (mother of the Virgin Mary)
• Joachim of David (father of the Virgin Mary)
• Joseph of Jacob (Saint Joseph)
• Public life of Jesus Christ

44.11 Mary was aware of the moods of Her relatives and was able to foresee their future tempers — they were not all like James, Judas and Simon or their mother Mary of Clopas — but although She knew what Her destiny was going to be during the three years of My public life, and was aware of Her destiny and Mine at the end of the three years, She did not fight back, as you do. She cried. And which mother would not have cried because of the separation from a son who loved her as I loved Mine, or because of the prospect of long days devoid of My presence in a solitary house, or because of the dreary outlook of a Son doomed to butt against the malice of guilty people who took vengeance for their guilt by offending the Blameless One to the extent of killing Him?

She cried because She was the Co-Redeemer, and because She was the Mother of mankind who were being born once again to God. And She had to cry for all the mothers who are not able to turn their motherly sorrows into a crown of eternal glory.

How many mothers there are in the world from whose arms death snatches their creatures! How many mothers there are whose sons are torn away from their sides by a supernatural will! As the Mother of all Christians, Mary cried for all Her daughters, and in Her sorrow of a bereft Mother, She cried for all Her sisters.

44.12 My Blood and My Mother’s tears are the mixture that fortifies those destined to a heroic fate, obliterates their imperfections and the sins they committed because of their weakness and, in addition to martyrdom, in whatever way suffered, it grants them the peace of God and then the glory of Heaven, if they suffered for God.

The missionary fathers find that mixture to be a flame that warms them in the regions covered with perpetual snow, and they find it to be a dew when the sun is scorching. Mary’s tears originate from Her charity, and they gush out from Her heart of a lily. They therefore possess the fire of virginal Charity, the Spouse of Love, and the scented freshness of virginal Purity, like the drops of water which gather in the chalice of a lily on a dewy night.

Our mixture is found by those consecrated in the desert of a well understood monastic life: it is a desert because it only lives in communion with God, whilst all other affections fade away and become pure supernatural charity: towards relatives, friends, superiors and inferiors.

It is found by those consecrated to God in the world, in the world that neither understands nor loves them, a desert also for them, as they live in it as if they were alone, so much are they misunderstood and mocked for My sake.

Our mixture is found by My dear “victims”, because Mary is the first victim for Jesus’ love, and with Her hands of a Mother and a Doctor, She gives Her followers Her tears which refreshen and urge to a greater sacrifice.

Holy tears of My Mother!

• Blood of Jesus Christ
• Suffering and pain of the Virgin Mary
• Tears of the Virgin Mary
• The Virgin Mary - Co-Redemptrix

44.12 My Blood and My Mother’s tears are the mixture that fortifies those destined to a heroic fate, obliterates their imperfections and the sins they committed because of their weakness and, in addition to martyrdom, in whatever way suffered, it grants them the peace of God and then the glory of Heaven, if they suffered for God.

The missionary fathers find that mixture to be a flame that warms them in the regions covered with perpetual snow, and they find it to be a dew when the sun is scorching. Mary’s tears originate from Her charity, and they gush out from Her heart of a lily. They therefore possess the fire of virginal Charity, the Spouse of Love, and the scented freshness of virginal Purity, like the drops of water which gather in the chalice of a lily on a dewy night.

Our mixture is found by those consecrated in the desert of a well understood monastic life: it is a desert because it only lives in communion with God, whilst all other affections fade away and become pure supernatural charity: towards relatives, friends, superiors and inferiors.

It is found by those consecrated to God in the world, in the world that neither understands nor loves them, a desert also for them, as they live in it as if they were alone, so much are they misunderstood and mocked for My sake.

Our mixture is found by My dear “victims”, because Mary is the first victim for Jesus’ love, and with Her hands of a Mother and a Doctor, She gives Her followers Her tears which refreshen and urge to a greater sacrifice.

Holy tears of My Mother!

• Apostolate - Evangelism
• Consecrated souls
• Heroism
• Martyrdom
• Master of souls
• Soul-victim

• André (apostle)
• James of Zebedee (apostle)
• John of Zebedee (apostle)
• Lucifer - Satan
• Summary of EMV
• The Virgin Mary

• Pain and suffering
• Sacrifice and immolation
• Salvation of a soul
• Soul-victim
• The fruitfulness of suffering

45.2 While I am watching these things, I notice that the right bank of the Jordan (according to my position) is becoming crowded with people. There are many men dressed in different fashions. Some seem ordinary people, some rich, and there are some who appear to be Pharisees, because their tunics are adorned with fringes and braids.

In the midst of them, standing on a rock, there is a man whom I recognise at once to be the Baptist, although it is the first time I see him. He is speaking to the crowds, and I can assure you that his sermon is not a sweet one. Jesus called James and John «the sons of thunder». Well then, what should we call this impetuous orator? John the Baptist deserves the names of thunderbolt, avalanche, earthquake, so impetuous and severe he is in his speech and gestures.

He is announcing the Messiah and exhorting the people to prepare their hearts for His coming, eradicating all obstructions and rectifying their thoughts. But it is a violent and harsh speech. The Precursor does not possess the light hand Jesus used to cure the wounds of hearts. He is a doctor who lays the wound bare, scrutinises it and cuts it mercilessly.

45.3 While I am listening — I am not repeating the words, because they are related by the Evangelists, but here they are amplified in impetuosity — I see my Jesus proceeding along a path, which is at the edge of the grassy shady strip coasting the Jordan. This rustic road (it is more a path than a road) seems to have been opened by the caravans and the people who throughout years and centuries passed along it to reach a point where it is easy to wade, because the water is very shallow. The path continues on the other side of the river and disappears from sight in the green strip of the other bank.

Jesus is alone. He is walking slowly, coming forward, behind the Baptist. He approaches noiselessly and listens to the thundering voice of the Penitent of the desert, as if He also were one of the many who came to John to be baptised and purified for the coming of the Messiah. There is nothing to distinguish Jesus from the others. His clothes are those of common people, but He has the appearance and handsomeness of a gentleman. There is no divine sign discriminating Him from the crowd.

But it would appear that John perceives a special spirituality emanate from Him. He turns around, and at once identifies the source of the emanation. He descends impulsively from the rocky pulpit and moves quickly towards Jesus, Who has stopped a few yards away from the crowd and is leaning against the trunk of a tree.

45.4 Jesus and John stare at each other for a moment: Jesus, with His very sweet blue eyes; John with his very severe black flashing ones. Seen from nearby, one is the antithesis of the other. They are both tall — their only resemblance — for all the rest, they differ immensely. Jesus is fair haired. His hair is long and tidy, His face is white ivory, His eyes blue, His garment simple, but majestic. John is hairy: his straight, black hair falls unevenly onto his shoulders, his sparse dark beard covers his face almost completely, but his cheeks, hollowed by fasting, are still noticeable, his feverish eyes are black, his complexion is dark, tanned by the sun and weather-beaten, his body is covered with hairs, he is half-naked in his camel-hair garment, which is tied to his waist by a leather belt and covers his trunk, reaching down to his thin sides, whilst his right side is uncovered and bare, completely weather-beaten. They look like a savage and an angel, seen close together.

John, after scrutinising Him with his piercing eyes, exclaims: «Here is the Lamb of God. How is it that my Lord comes to me?»

Jesus replies calmly: «To fulfil the penitential rite.»

«Never, my Lord. I must come to You to be sanctified, and You are coming to me?»

And Jesus, laying His hand on the head of John, who had bowed down in front of Him, replies: «Let it be done as I wish, that all justice may be fulfilled and your rite may become the beginning of a higher mystery and men may be informed that the Victim is in the world.»

45.5 John looks at Him with his eyes sweetened by tears and precedes Jesus towards the bank of the river. Jesus takes off His mantle and tunic, and is left with loin cloth. He then descends into the water, where there is John, who baptises Him, pouring on His head some water taken from the river by means of a cup, tied to his belt. It looks like a shell or a half pumpkin dried and emptied.

Jesus is really the Lamb. A Lamb in the whiteness of His flesh, in the modesty of His gestures, in the meekness of His appearance.

While Jesus climbs onto the bank and after putting on His clothes concentrates on praying, John points Him out to the crowd and testifies that he recognised Him by the sign that the Spirit of God had shown him as an infallible means to identify the Redeemer.

But I am enraptured in watching Jesus pray, and I can only see His bright figure against the green of the river bank.

• Jean-Baptiste