Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Maria Valtorta
Imprimatur for English edition:
1999 Bishop Roman Danylak (see page, 38 Appendix)
Mary is startled, and lowers Her head. And She is even more startled when She sees
the shining creature kneeling about a metre away from Her, and looking at Her with
infinite veneration: his hands crossed over his chest.
Mary jumps to Her feet and squeezes against the wall Her face shows surprise and
fear. She presses Her hands against Her breasts - hiding them under Her large sleeves.
She stoops, endeavouring to conceal Her body as much as possible.
Hail Mary...
The angel says: No. Do not fear. The Lord is with You! You are blessed amongst all
women!
But Mary continues to be afraid. Where has that extraordinary being come from? Is he
a messenger of God, or of the Deceiver?
Do not fear, Mary! repeats the Archangel. I am Gabriel, the Angel of God. My
Lord has sent me to You. Do not be afraid, because You have found grace in the eyes of
God. You will conceive and bear a Son, and You will call Him "Jesus". He will be great,
and will be called Son of the Most High (and such He will really be). The Lord God will
give Him the throne of His Ancestor David. He will rule over the House of Jacob for
ever, and His reign will have no end. Understand - O Holy Virgin loved by God,
Daughter blessed by Him, and called to be the Mother of His Son
Hail Mary...
Mary asks: How can this come about, since I do not know man? Does the Lord God
no longer accept the offer of His maidservant, and not want Me a Virgin, for His love?
You will be a mother, Mary, but not by deed of man. You are the Eternal Virgin, the
Holy Virgin of God. The Holy Spirit will come upon You, and the power of the Most
High will cover You with its shadow. So the Child born of You will be called Holy, and
Son of God. Our Lord God can do everything.
Hail Mary...
(The Angel continues...)
Elizabeth, the barren one, in her old age, has conceived a son. He will be the Prophet
of Your Son, and will prepare His ways. The Lord has removed her disgrace, and her
memory will remain amongst all people - together with Your name - as the name of her
creature will be joined to the name of Your Holy Son. And until the end of centuries, you
will be called blessed. This is because of the grace of the Lord which has come to You
both. And it has come particularly to You - by means of Whom Grace has come to all
peo-ples. Elizabeth is in her sixth month. Her burden lifts her to joy, and will lift her even
more when she hears of Your joy. Nothing is impossible to the Lord: Mary, full of Grace.
Hail Mary...
What shall I tell my Lord? the angel asks. Let no thought whatsoever disturb
You. He will protect Your interests, if You trust in Him. The world, Heaven, and the
Eternal Father are awaiting Your word!
Mary crosses Her hands over Her breast, and bowing down deeply, She says: I am
the handmaid of the Lord. Let what you have said be done to Me.
The Angel shines with joy. He kneels in adoration, because he certainly sees the Spirit
of God descend upon the Virgin, bent down in consent. And he disappears without
moving the curtain, but leaving it well drawn over the holy Mystery.
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
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accomplish the things the Lord predicted for You, which the Prophets foretold for our
times! You are blessed, for the Salvation You have brought to the house of Jacob! You
are blessed, for the Holiness You have brought to my son, whom I feel leaping with joy,
like a happy little kid, in my womb. Because he feels free from the burden of guilt, and
he is called to be the Predecessor, sanctified before Redemption by the Holy One, Who is
growing within You!
Hail Mary...
Two tears run down like pearls from Marys sparkling eyes, to Her smiling lips. Her
face is raised to heaven, and Her arms are also raised up, in the attitude that Her Jesus
will take so often. She exclaims: My soul magnifies the Lord (and She continues the
canticle, as it has been handed down to us). At the verse: He has come to the help of
Israel his servant... , she puts Her hands on Her breast, and kneels down, stooping to the
ground, adoring God.
Hail Mary...
The servant had disappeared and is now coming back from the orchard with a
solemn old man, whose hair and beard are completely white, and who greets Mary from a
distance, with great gestures and loud guttural sounds.
Zacharias is arriving says Elizabeth, touching the shoulder of Mary, Who is
engrossed in prayer. My Zacharias is dumb. God has punished him, because he did not
believe. I will tell You later. But now I hope that God will forgive him, because You
have come. You, full of Grace.
Hail Mary...
Mary rises and goes to meet Zacharias. She stoops to the ground in front of him,
kissing the hem of his white robe that reaches down to the ground
Zacharias welcomes Mary by gestures, and they both move toward Elizabeth. They all
enter a room on the ground floor. It is a wide room, tastefully arranged, where they make
Mary sit down, and offer Her some new milk - there is still foam on it - and some small
cakes
Hail Mary...
In the meantime, Mary is replying to the questions Zacharias is asking Her, writing
them on a wax tablet... From Her answers, I understand that he is asking Her about
Joseph and Her married life with him. I also understand that Zacharias has been denied
all supernatural light about Mary's state, and about Her condition of Mother of the
Messiah. Elizabeth goes near her husband, and laying her hand on his shoulder - in a
loving attitude says to him: Mary is also a mother. Rejoice over Her happiness. But
she does not say anything else. She looks at Mary. And Mary looks at her, but does not
encourage her to say any more...
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
Joseph rouses. He notices that the fire is almost out and He throws onto the fire
some twigs, and finally some sticks When the fire is blazing he turns round, gets
up, and slowly moves towards Mary.
Are You not sleeping, Mary? he asks.
He asks three times until She turns around and replies: I am praying.
Hail Mary...
Joseph then goes on his knees near the fire, and prays, with his hands pressed
against his face... Apart from the noise of the crackling sticks, and the noise made now
and again by the donkey - stamping its hooves on the ground - no other sound is heard.
A thin ray of moonlight creeps in through a crack in the vault... It stretches in length
and at last reaches Mary. It is now on Her head, where it forms a halo of pure light.
Mary lifts Her head - as if She had received a celestial call - and She goes on to Her
knees again. Oh! How beautiful it is here now! She raises Her head. Her face shines in
the white moonlight, and becomes trans-figured by a supernatural smile
The light around Her is increasing more and more and it seems to originate from
Herself It spreads on the things around Her, it covers them and brightens
everything...
Hail Mary...
The light - given off more and more intensely from Mary's body now absorbs the
moonlight This blissful, uncontainable eternal, and divine Light... is heralded by a
dawn, and a morning star. And atoms of Light descend in a large stream, stretching
out like veils
The vault - full of crevices, cobwebs, and rubble now seems like the ceiling of a
royal hall. Each boulder is a block of silver, each crack an opal flash, and each cobweb a
most precious canopy, interwoven with silver and diamonds. A huge green lizard hibernating between two stones - seems like an emerald jewel, forgotten there by a queen.
And a bunch of hibernating bats hangs like a precious chandelier. The hay from the upper
manger is now strands of pure silver wire, quivering in the air with the grace of loose
hair
The light increases more and more. It is now unbearable to the eye. And the Virgin
disappears in so much light, as if She had been absorbed by an incandescent curtain
And then the Mother emerges.
Hail Mary...
Yes. When the light becomes endurable once again to my eyes, I see Mary with the
new-born Son in Her arms. A little Baby, rosy and plump, bustling with His little hands
as big as rose buds, and kicking with His tiny feet... He is crying with a thin, trem-bling
voice, just like a new-born little lamb, opening His pretty little mouth that resembles a
wild strawberry, and showing a tiny tongue that trembles against the rosy roof of His
mouth. And He moves His little head, which is so blond that it seems without any hair. It
is a little round head that His Mummy holds in the hollow of Her hand, while She looks
at Her Baby and adores Him, weeping and smiling at the same time.
She bends down to kiss Him - not on His innocent head, but on the centre of His chest.
Underneath there is His little heart beating for us where one day there will be the
Wound5. And His Mother is doctoring that wound in advance, with Her immaculate kiss.
Hail Mary...
The ox gets up with a great noise of hooves, and bellows. The donkey turns its head
round and brays. It is the light that rouses them, but I love to think that they wanted to
greet their Creator, both for them-selves, and on behalf of all the animals.
Joseph - almost enraptured, and praying ardently - sees the light filter through the
fingers of his hands He lifts his head and turns round. The ox, standing as it is, hides
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Mary. But She calls him: Joseph, come. Joseph rushes. And when he sees, he stops
and is about to fall on his knees where he is. But Mary insists: Come, Joseph.
Holding the Child close to Her heart She gets up and moves towards an em-barrassed
Joseph...
They meet at the foot of the straw bed, and they look at each other, weeping blissfully.
Come, let us offer Jesus to the Father says Mary. And while Joseph kneels down,
She stands lifts up Her Creature in Her arms, and says: Here I am. On His behalf, O
God, I speak these words to You: here I am to do Your will: I, Mary, and My spouse,
Joseph, with Him. Here are Your servants, O Lord. May Your will always be done by us,
in every hour, in every event, for Your glory, and for Your love.
Hail Mary...
Then Mary says: Here, Joseph, take Him , and offers him the Child.
What! Me? Oh, no! I am not worthy! Joseph is utterly dumb-founded
But Mary insists, smiling: You are well worthy. No one is more worthy than you are,
and that is why the Most High chose you. Take Him, Joseph, and hold Him, while I look
for the linens.
Joseph, blushing almost purple, stretches his arms out and takes the Baby, Who is
screaming because of the cold He presses Him to his heart, and bursts into tears,
exclaim-ing: Oh! Lord! My God! He bends down to kiss the tiny feet, and he feels
how cold they are So he goes between the ox and the donkey, with his back to the
door, bending over the New-Born, forming a shelter with his body.
Hail Mary...
Meanwhile, Mary has opened the trunk, has pulled out the linens and swaddling
clothes, and has been near the fire, warming them
Joseph livens up the fire to a good blaze. He warms the hay and when he has
gathered enough to make a little mattress for the Child, he goes to the manger, and sorts it
out as if it were a cradle
And the Mother - with Her sweet, graceful gait - moves to the manger, lays Jesus in it,
and covers Him with the strip of Her mantle. She arranges it around His bare head
(which is) protected by Her thin veil. Only His little face, the size of a man's fist, is left
uncovered. Bending over the manger, Mary and Joseph are bliss-fully happy, watching
Him sleep His first sleep...
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
Joseph is waiting for Her at the foot of the steps, with a little grey don-key. Joseph is
dressed entirely in light brown He smiles at Mary, and when She arrives near the
little don-key, he places the animal's bridle on his left arm, holds for a moment the Child
- Who is sleeping peacefully - allowing Mary to sit more comfortably on the donkey's
saddle. He then hands Jesus back to Her, and they set out
Hail Mary...
The road winds along the country made barren by the season of the year. Only a few
other travellers meet them or overtake them.
I then see some houses, and the walls around a town. They go in through a gate, and
start walking on the pavement which is all broken up, and very irregular. Progress is now
much more difficult, both because the traffic often causes the donkey to stop, and
because the holes - where stones are missing - make the poor animal jerk continuously,
disturbing Mary and the Child.
The road is slightly uphill, narrow, and running between high houses, which have
small narrow low doors, and only a few windows at road level. High above, the sky can
be seen, with many thin blue strips between the houses, nay, between the terraces. Down
in the street, there are many people, and there is much shouting. They meet other people
who are on foot, riding donkeys, or leading loaded donkeys. And there is a crowd
following a cumbersome camel caravan. At a certain moment, a pat-rol of Roman
legionaries passes by, with a great noise of hooves and arms. They disappear beyond an
arch, built across the narrow, stony road.
Hail Mary...
Joseph turns left, along a wider and more pleasant road. I can see the embattled town
walls at the end of the street.
Mary dismounts from the little donkey, near a gate where there is a stall for other
donkeys... 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. He buys some hay,
and draws a pail of water from a rustic well in the corner. He feeds the donkey, then joins
Mary, and they both enter the enclosure of the Temple.
Hail Mary...
At first, they turn their steps towards an arcade where the merchants are Joseph buys
two little white pigeons. He does not change any money - obviously he has what is
required.
They then make for a side door, above eight steps - as all the doors seem to be, 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. Only this one is larger and more ornate.
In the hall - on the right and on the left - are two kinds of altars. They are two rectangular
constructions, the pur-pose of which I do not understand at first. They are like low
basins, because the internal part is a few centimetres lower than the external rim.
Hail Mary...
A priest approaches them. I do not know whether he was called by Joseph, or whether
he came of his own accord. Mary offers Her two little pigeons 7, and since I know their
fate, I turn my eyes elsewhere. I am watching the decorations on the very heavy portal, on
the ceiling, and around 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 - goes into the real Temple, in the company of the priest.
Hail Mary...
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phylacteries10. He knows how to say the daily prayers and blessings. Since He knows the
Law in Itself He can behave as a man. Therefore I wish to be free from the
responsibilities of His actions and of His sins. From now on He must be subject to the
precepts, and He must, Himself, pay the penalty for His failures towards them. Examine
Him.
We Will. Come forward, Child. What is Your name?
Jesus of Joseph, from Nazareth.
A Nazarene can You therefore read?
Yes, rabbi, I can read the words which are written, and those which are construed in
the words them-selves.
What do you mean?
I mean that I also understand the meaning of the allegory, or of the symbol which is
hidden under the appearance. Just as a pearl does not appear, but it is inside an ugly
closed shell.
A clever answer, and a very wise one. We seldom hear that on the lips of adults; in a
child, and a Nazarene in addition!
The attention of the ten has been awakened. Their eyes do not lose for an instant the
beautiful blond Child, Who is looking at them: sure of Himself, without boldness, but
also without fear.
You honour Your master, who, certainly, was deeply read.
The Wisdom of God was gathered in his just heart.
But listen to that! You are a happy man, father of such a Son!
Joseph - who is at the end of the room - smiles and bows down.
Hail Mary
They give Jesus three different rolls, saying: Read the one tied with the golden
ribbon.
Jesus opens the roll and reads. It is the Decalogue 11 (the Ten Commandments). But
after the first few words, one of the judges takes the roll from Him saying: Go on by
heart. Jesus continues - so sure of Himself, that He seems to be reading. Every time He
mentions the Lord, He bows down deeply.
Who taught You that? Why do You do that?
Because that Name is holy, and it is to be pronounced with a sign of internal and
external respect. Subjects bow down to their king, who is king only for a short time, and
he is dust. To the King of kings, the Most High Lord of Israel - Who is present, even if
He is only visible to the spirit - shall not every creature bow down, since every creature
depends on Him with eternal subjection?
Very clever! Man: we advise you to have your Son educated either by Hillel or
Gamaliel. He is a Nazarene but His answers give us hope that He will become a new
great doctor.
My Son is of age. He will decide according to His own will. If His decision is an
honest one, I will not oppose it.
Hail Mary
One of the doctors then asks: Listen, Child. It is said: "Remember to sanctify feast
days. Not only for yourself, but also for your son and your daughter, your servant and
your maidservant. Even for your horse it is said that they must not work on the Sabbath".
Now tell me: if a hen lays an egg on a Sabbath, or a sheep lambs on a Sabbath, will it be
legal to use the fruit of its womb, or will it be considered as a disgrace?
Jesus replies: I know that many rabbis - Shammai is the last of them and is still alive
- say that an egg laid on a Sabbath is against the precept 12. But I think that there is a
difference between man and animals, or with whoever fulfils a natural act, such as giving
birth. If I compel a horse to work, I am responsible for its sin, because I force it to work
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with a whip. But if a hen lays an egg which has matured in its ovary, on the Sabbath, or a
sheep lambs a little one because it is ready to be born, on the Sabbath, no, such a deed is
not a sin. Neither is the egg laid or the lamb born, on a Sabbath, a sin in the eyes of
God.
The doctor asks: But why, if every kind of work is a sin on the Sabbath?
Because to conceive and give birth correspond to the will of the Creator, and comply
with the laws which He gave to every creature. Now, the hen does nothing but obey the
law, according to which - after so many hours of growth - an egg is complete and ready
to be laid. And the sheep also obeys the laws, laid down by Him Who created everything
If, therefore, a sheep - when its time is up - gives birth to a little lamb, oh! The little
lamb can certainly be sacred on an altar, because it is the fruit of obedience to the
Creator.
The doctor then says: I would not examine Him any further. His wisdom is greater
than the wisdom of grown-up people, and is really sur-prising.
Hail Mary...
They go into a larger and more splendid room. The first thing they do there is to
shorten Jesus hair, and His long curls are picked up by Joseph. They then tighten His red
tunic, with a long band turned several times round His waist. They tie some little fringes
to His forehead, arm and mantle They then sing psalms, and Joseph praises the Lord
with a long prayer, invoking all blessings on his Son.
The ceremony is over. Jesus goes out with Joseph. They go back to where they came
from, they join their male relatives, they buy and offer a lamb; then - with the slaughtered
victim - they reach the women.
Mary kisses Her Jesus. It seems She has not seen Him for years. She looks at Him now that He is more manly in His clothes, and in the style of His hair and She pats
Him
Hail Mary...
(Some time later, the Rabbis Hillel and Gamaliel are engaged with Shammai and some
of the other doctors in a dispute about the prophesied coming of the Messiah 13...)
The dispute - full of petty, fault-finding objections - drags on endlessly. All the doctors
show off their learning, not so much as to beat their opponents, as to impress the
listeners
From the nearby group of the believers, the clear voice of a boy is heard: Gamaliel is
right.
There is a stir in the crowd, and in the group of doctors. They look for the interrupter.
But it is not necessary to search for him, because he does not hide. He makes his way
through the crowd, and goes near the group of the rabbis . I recognise the adolescent
Jesus. He is sure of Himself, open-hearted, and His eyes are sparkling with intelligence.
Who are You? , they ask Him.
I am a son of Israel, who has come to fulfill what the Law pre-scribes.
His bold and frank reply is appreciated, and earns smiles of approval and favour. They
take an interest in this young Israelite.
What is Your name?
Jesus of Nazareth.
They make Jesus sit on a high stool between Gamaliel and Hillel, and they give Him
some rolls to read and explain. It is a proper examination. The people throng and listen.
Hail Mary...
Jesus reads in His clear voice: Be consoled, my people. Speak to the heart of
Jerusalem, and call to her that her time of service is ended 14 A voice cries in the
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wilderness: "Prepare a way for the Lord15 then the glory of the Lord shall be
revealed16 "
Shammai then says: See, Nazarene. It refers to an end of slavery, but never before
have we been slaves as we are now. And there is the mention of a precursor. Where is he?
You are talking non-sense.
Jesus: I tell you that the warning of the Precursor should be addressed to you, more
than anyone else. To you and those like you. Otherwise you will not see the glory of the
Lord. Neither will you understand the word of God. Because meanness, pride and
falsehood will prevent you from seeing and hearing.
Shammai: How dare You speak to a master like that?
Jesus: I speak thus. And thus I shall speak, even to My death, because above Me
there are the interests of the Lord, and the love for Truth of which I am the Son. And I
add, rabbi, that the slavery of which the Prophet speaks, and of which I am speaking, is
not the one you think. Neither is the royalty the one you consider. On the contrary, by the
merits of the Messiah, man will be made free from the slavery of Evil, which separates
him from God. And the sign of Christ will be on the spirits, freed from every yoke, and
made subjects of the eternal kingdom
Hail Mary...
Shammai and his followers say: This Nazarene is Satan!
Hillel replies: No. This child is a Prophet of God. Stay with me, Child. My old age
will transfuse what I know into Your knowledge, and You will be Master of the people of
God.
And Jesus says: I solemnly tell you, that if there were many like you, salvation would
come to Israel. But My hour has not come. Voices from Heaven speak to Me, and in
solitude I must gather them until My hour comes. Then, with My lips and My blood, I
will speak to Jerusalem. And the destiny of Prophets, stoned and killed by her, will also
be My destiny. But above My life, there is the Lord God, to Whom I submit Myself as a
faithful servant, to make of Myself a stool for His glory, waiting that He will make the
world a stool at the feet of Christ. Wait for Me in My hour. These stones shall hear My
voice again and vibrate, hearing My last word17. Blessed are those who will have heard
God in that voice, and will have believed in Him, because of it. To them, Christ will give
that kingdom which your selfishness imagines to be a human one, whereas it is a heavenly one. And therefore I say: "Here is Your servant, Lord, Who has come do to Your will.
Let it be consummated, because I am eager to fulfill it".
And here the vision ends. It is the vision of Jesus with His face burning with spiritual
ardour, raised to Heaven, with His arms stretched out, standing upright in the midst of the
astonished doctors.
Hail Mary...
(A drama of a different kind is taking place on the road back to Nazareth. Jesus
describes to Maria Valtorta His Mothers distress...)
She realised, after the groups of men and women had gathered to-gether, that I was
not with Joseph.
She does not reproach Her spouse bitterly But the pain that appears on Mary's face
pierces Joseph's heart more than any bitter reproach. Mary does not give vent to dramatic
outbursts But Her repressed sorrow is so obvious: She starts trembling, Her face turns
pale, Her eyes are wide open, and thus She arouses pity - more than any outburst of tears
and cries.
She is no longer tired or hungry. And yet the journey was a long one, and She has not
taken any food for so many hours! But She leaves everything: the bed She was preparing,
and the food which was ready to be handed out. And She goes back. It is night, it is dark.
It does not matter. Every step takes Her back to Jerusalem. She stops the caravans and
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pilgrims and questions them. Joseph follows Her and helps Her. A long day's walk back
to Jerusalem and then the feverish search in town.
Hail Mary...
(Jesus continues His dictation on Marys distress)
Where, where can Her Jesus be? By God's provision, and for many hours, She will not
know where to look for Me. To look for a child in the Temple does not make sense. What
could a child be doing in the Temple? At most, if he had got lost in town and his little
steps had brought him back there, he would have cried for his mother. In this way he
would have attracted the attention of people and of the priests, who would have taken the
necessary steps to find the parents - by means of announcements left at the gates. But
there was no announcement. No one in town knew anything of this Child. Beautiful?
Blond? Strong? There are so many like that!
Then, after three days - the symbol of three other days of future anguish - Mary,
exhausted, enters the Temple, walks along the yards and the halls. Nothing. She runs, the
poor Mother, whenever She hears the voice of a child. Even the bleating of the lambs
give Her the impression that She hears Her Creature weeping and looking for Her. But
Jesus is not weeping. He is teaching. All of a sudden, from beyond the barrier of a large
group of people, She hears His voice saying: "These stones will vibrate..." She
endeavours to make Her way through the crowd, and succeeds after much effort. There is
Her Son, standing in the midst of the doctors with His arms stretched out.
Mary is the Prudent Virgin. But this time anxiety overcomes prudence She runs to
Her Son, embraces Him, lifts Him off the stool, and puts Him down on the ground. She
exclaims: "Oh! Why have You done this to us? For three days we have been looking for
You. Your Mummy is dying with pain, Son. Your father is exhausted with fatigue. Why,
Jesus?"
You do not ask "why" of Him Who knows. Or ask "why" He behaved in a certain way.
You do not ask those with a vocation: "why" they leave everything to follow the voice of
God. I was Wisdom, and I knew. I was "called" to a mission, and I was fulfilling it.
Above the earthly father and mother, there is God, the Divine Father. His interests are
above ours, His affections are superior to everything else. And I tell My Mother.
I finish teaching the doctors with the lesson to Mary, the Queen of doctors. And She
has never forgotten it. The sun began to shine again in Her heart, now that She had Me humble and obedient - beside Her. But My words are deeply rooted in Her mind. There
will be much sun-shine, and many clouds will gather in the sky, during the next twentyone years I will still be on the earth. And great joys and many tears will alternate in Her
heart during these next twenty-one years. But never again will She ask: "My Son, why
have You done this to us?"
Hail Mary...
Glory be
Oh my Jesus
o o 0 o o
THE FIRST SORROWFUL MYSTERY:
THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN1
(The Poem, Vol. 5, pp. 530-39)
Our Father...
(Jesus and His apostles, with the exception of Judas, have left the house of the
Last Supper, and arrive at a place below the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus says:)
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Let us part now. I am going further up, to pray. I want Peter, John and James with Me.
You others, remain here. And if you should be overwhelmed, call us. And be not afraid.
Not a single hair of your heads will be hurt. Pray for Me. Lay aside hatred and fear. It
will only be a moment then it will be full joy And once again, thank you for
everything, My friends. Goodbye. May the Lord not abandon you
Jesus parts from the apostles and goes ahead, while Simon the Zealot gives Peter the
torch. (Peter, James and John then follow Jesus)... It grieves me to see Judas Thaddeus
cast such an intense and sorrowful glance at Jesus, that the Latter turns round to see who
has been looking at Him. But Thaddeus hides behind Bartholomew, biting his lips to
control himself.
With His hand, Jesus makes a gesture, which is of blessing and farewell at the same
time They go on until they reach the edge of the first escarpment of the rustic
amphitheatre of the olive-grove... Jesus then says: Stop, wait for Me here, while I pray.
But do not fall asleep. I may need you. And I ask you this out of charity, pray! Your
Master is very depressed.
He is in fact already in a state of deep depression His voice is tired and exhausted.
Peter replies on behalf of everybody: Do not worry, Master. We will keep awake and
pray. All You have to do is to call us, and we will come.
Jesus leaves the three apostles, while they stoop to gather leaves and twigs, and light a
little fire to keep themselves awake...
Hail Mary...
Jesus walks eastwards, so that the moon shines on His face. I see that a deep sorrow
dilates His eyes... He climbs with His head lowered, and only now and again He raises it
with a sigh He then casts His eyes, that are so sad, around the peaceful olive-grove. He
climbs up a few metres, and then goes round an escarpment...
He stops there and prays with His arms stretched out crosswise, His face towards the
sky... It is a prayer rising from His love, and His need. A true conversation with His
Father. I ask You to have mercy on them Will I save them? That is what I ask of
You. This I want: that they be saved from the world, from the flesh, from the demon
He turns round, leans with His back against the rock, folds His arms, and looks at
Jerusalem. His face becomes sadder and sadder, and He whispers: She looks like
snow and she is all sin. And how many I cured in her! How much I spoke! Where
are those who seemed loyal to Me?
He lowers His head and looks fixedly at the ground I understand that He is weeping,
because some tears shine when falling from His face on the ground. He then raises His
head, unfolds His arms, and joins them - holding them above His head...
Hail Mary...
He then goes back towards the three apostles, who are sitting round the little fire of
twigs. And He finds them half asleep
Have you not been able to keep awake for one hour? I need your comfort and your
prayers so much!
The three wake up with a start, and are utterly confused: It's the wine the food
It was only a moment But we will now pray in loud voices, and it will not happen
again.
Yes. Pray and be on the alert. For your own sake as well.
Jesus goes back to His rock more slowly, and more stooped. He kneels, resting His
arms on the rock... Shortly afterwards He feels the coolness of the little corollas growing
there, and raises His head. He looks at them, caresses them, and speaks to them: You
are here as well! You comfort Me! These little flowers were also in My Mother's little
grotto My Mother! Oh! My Mother! He bursts into tears. His head on His joined
16
hands, and a little reclined on His heels: I brought them to You, Mother. But who
will bring them to You now?
Hail Mary...
He resumes praying and meditating. Then He stands up, and He goes backwards and
forwards, whispering words that I do not grasp... To describe it is impossible. To see it is
to share His anguish. He makes gestures towards Jerusalem. Then He begins to raise His
arms again towards the sky, as if He wanted to invoke help
His anguish is such that, in order to overcome it, He shouts the names of Peter and John.
And He says: They will come now. They are really loyal! But "they" do not come
Hail Mary...
He runs fast towards the place where Peter and the two brothers are. And He finds them
comfortably fast asleep around a few embers Peter! I have called you three times!
Are you still sleeping? Do you not realise how much I am suffering? Pray. That the flesh
may not win, that it may not overwhelm you. Not any of you. If the spirit is willing, the
flesh is weak. Help Me
The three wake up more slowly and with dull eyes they apologise, and re-kindle the
fire
lighting up the poor face of Jesus. It is a face that is so sad, that one cannot
look at it without weeping He says: I feel an anguish that is killing Me! Oh! yes! My
soul is sad even unto death. My friends! My friends! ... Every word sounds like a
sob
But the three are too heavy with sleep Jesus looks at them He does not humiliate
them by reproaching them. He shakes His head, sighs, and goes back to the place where
He was.
Hail Mary...
He prays once again, standing, with His arms stretched out cross-wise. Then on His
knees... He calls His Father.
This cup is too bitter! I cannot! I cannot! It is above My power. I have been able to
bear everything! But not this Father, take it away from Your Son! Have mercy on
Me! What have I done to deserve it? He then collects Himself and says: But,
Father, do not listen to My voice, if what I ask is against Your will. Do not remember that
I am Your Son, but only Your servant. Let Your will be done, not Mine.
He remains like this for some time. Then He utters a stifled cry He drops on the
ground, with His face on the earth... A worn-out man, over-burdened by all the sins of the
world
Hail Mary...
Jesus moans, having the death-rattle in His throat, and sobbing like one in agony:
Nothing! Nothing! Away! The will of My Father! His will! Only His will!
Your will, Father. Yours, not Mine In vain you tempt Me, devil, through My Mother,
My life, My divinity and My mission "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass Me by.
But let Your will be done, not Mine". Be off, Satan. I belong to God.
Then He speaks no more, except to say, in a panting voice: God! God! God! He calls
Him at each heart-beat, and at each beat, blood seems to flow out of Him. The cloth on
His shoulders gets soaked through, and becomes dark, notwithstanding the clear
moonlight that illuminates it completely.
Hail Mary...
A brighter light appears above His head, hanging about a metre above Him. It is so
bright that even the Prostrate Master can see it filter through His wavy hair, already
weighed down by blood As He raises His head the angelic light shines more
brightly Then all the dreadful agony appears, in the blood seeping out from His
17
pores Blood trickles from His temples, blood spouts from the veins of His neck, His
hands drip blood. And when He stretches His hands towards the angelic light Christ's
forearms can be seen sweating blood. Only His tears draw two neat lines in the red mask
of His face
Jesus seems on the point of fainting. He unties the neck of His tunic... He takes His hand
to His heart and then to His head, and with His mouth half open, He waves it in front of
His face, as if He wanted to fan Himself. He drags Himself towards the rock and leans
with His back against it. His arms are hanging along His body, as if He were already
dead. His head is bent over His chest
The angelic light slowly fades away Jesus reopens His eyes. He raises His head with
difficulty, and looks around. He is alone. But He is less anguished... He takes a large
leaf which is all wet with dew - and He cleans Himself with it, wetting His face and
hands, and then drying Himself. He does the same several times with other leaves, until
He wipes out the traces of His dreadful sweat. Only His tunic is stained He folds it and
lays it on the rock...
Then He stands up, and still staggering a little, He goes to the disciples. His face is
full of divine beauty, although it is deadly pale...
Hail Mary...
The three are sleeping soundly... Jesus calls them in vain. He has to bend and shake
them vigorously
Get up, now, and let us go. He who is going to betray Me is close at hand.
The three, still drowsy, get up... They follow Jesus without speaking.
The other eight are also more or less asleep around a fire that has gone out. Get up!
orders Jesus in a thunderous voice. As Satan is arriving, show him, who never sleeps,
and his children, that the children of God are not asleep!
The guards, headed by Judas, burst into the little square, with their many torches... It is a
horde of ban-dits disguised as soldiers, who grin like devils
All the apostles jump to one corner... Jesus remains where He is.
Judas approaches Jesus and kisses His right cheek.
In a sorrowful tone, Jesus says: My friend, what have you come for? Are you
betraying Me with a kiss?
Judas bends his head for a moment, then raises it He is insensible to every
invitation to repent.
Hail Mary...
The guards, shouting, come for-ward with ropes and clubs...
Who are you looking for? asks Jesus calmly and solemnly.
Jesus the Nazarene.
I am He. His voice is thunderous They all fall to the ground except Judas, Jesus
and the apostles, who take fresh heart again so much so that they threaten Judas so
explicitly, that the latter takes a leap, just in time to avoid a stroke from Simon's sword.
Pursued by stones and sticks he escapes beyond the Kidron, and dis-appears in a dark
lane.
Then Jesus says: Stand up. Who are you looking for? I ask you once again.
Jesus the Nazarene.
I have told you that I am He says Jesus kindly. Yes, kindly. So, let these others go.
I will come. Put away your swords and clubs
But while He is speaking, Peter approaches the man who is holding out the ropes to tie
Jesus, gives him a clumsy blow with his sword, and cuts off part of his ear There is
chaos, until Jesus says: Put those weap-ons away. I order you to do that. If I wanted, I
could have the angels of My Father to defend Me. And you, be cured. In your soul first of
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all, if you can. And before stretching out His hands to be tied, He touches the ear, and
cures it.
The apostles shout very unbecomingly (and) run away.
Jesus and the guards are left all alone. And His new journey begins...
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
Hail Mary...
Behind Jesus stands one who looks like an executioner, with a clear Jewish profile. In
front of Him there is another man, who looks like the previous one. They are armed with
scourges, made of seven leather strips tied to a handle, and ending with small lead
hammers. They begin to strike Him rhythmically, as if they were practising. One in front
and one behind, so that Jesus' trunk is in a whirl of lashes and scourges.
Hail Mary...
The four soldiers, to whom Pilate had handed Jesus, are indifferent to what is going on,
and are playing dice with other three soldiers who have just arrived. And the voices of
the players follow the rhythm of the sound of the scourges, which hiss like snakes, and
then resound, like stones striking the stretched skin of a drum.
Hail Mary...
They beat the poor body, which is so slender and as white as old ivory, and then
becomes covered with stripes that at first are a brighter and brighter pink shade, then
violet. The body then displays blue swellings full of blood, and the skin breaks, letting
blood flow from all sides. They redouble their cruelty on His thorax and abdomen, but
there is no shortage of blows given to His legs, arms and even to His head, so that no
fragment of His skin may be left without pain.
Hail Mary...
And not a moan If Jesus were not held up by the rope, He would fall. But He does not
fall, and does not groan. His head hangs over His chest, after so many blows, as if He had
fainted.
Hey! Stop! He must be alive when He is killed shouts a soldier mockingly.
The two executioners stop and wipe their perspiration.
We are exhausted they say. Give us our pay, so that we may have a drink
I would give you the gallows! But here you are and a soldier throws a large coin
to each executioner.
Hail Mary...
One of the soldiers says: You have done a good job. He looks like a mosaic. Titus,
was this man really Alexander's love? (He is referring to another soldier who had
befriended Jesus.) We must let him know, so that he may mourn over His death. Let us
untie Him.
They untie Him, and Jesus falls on the floor like a dead body. They leave Him there,
pushing Him now and again with their feet to see whether He moans. But He is silent...
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
Come on! Quick! Are You weak? Here is some refreshment says another soldier in a
sneering voice. And with the shaft of his spear he delivers a blow to Jesus' face, striking
it between the right cheekbone and the nose, which begins to bleed 4.
Hail Mary...
Jesus opens His eyes and looks around. His eyes are clouded He stares at the soldier
who struck Him, wipes the blood with His hand, and then, with much effort, He stands
up.
Get dressed. It is immodest to stay like that. You lewd man! They all stand around
Him, laughing.
He obeys without speaking. But He alone knows how much He suffers. He stoops to the
ground and His wounds open up even more when the skin is stretched, and more
wounds are formed as the blisters burst.
Hail Mary...
A soldier gives a kick to His garments and scatters them. Every time Jesus reaches them,
staggering to where they lie, a soldier pushes them away or throws them in a different
direction. And Jesus, suffering bitterly, goes after them without uttering a word, while the
soldiers jeer at Him obscenely.
Hail Mary...
He can dress Himself again at last. And He can also put on the white tunic, which was
left in a corner and is still clean. He seems to wish to conceal His other poor red garment,
which only yesterday was so beautiful, and now is filthy with rubbish, and stained with
the blood sweated at Gethsemane. Furthermore, before putting on His short vest, He dries
His face with it, cleaning it of dust and spittle. The poor holy face then looks clean,
marked only by bruises and small cuts. He tidies His hair - hanging bedraggled - and then
His beard, out of an inborn need to be personally tidy.
Hail Mary...
He then squats in the sunshine... My Jesus is shivering Fever begins to torture Him
with its cold shivers. And He feels weak, because of the blood He has lost, and through
fasting and walking so much.
They tie His hands once again. The rope begins to cut into His wrists, where the torn
skin has left a mark like a red bracelet.
Hail Mary...
One of the soldiers says: Now! What shall we do with Him? I am bored!
Wait. The Jews want a king. Now we will give them one. Him says another
soldier.
And he runs outside, and comes back with branches of wild hawthorn. They are still
flexible, because spring-time keeps the branches relatively tender, whilst the long sharp
thorns are hard. With a dagger they remove leaves and buds, they bend the branches forming a circle - and they place them on His poor head. But the cruel crown falls down
on His neck.
Hail Mary...
It does not fit. Make it narrower. Take it off.
They take the crown off and scratch His cheeks - risking to blind Him - and they tear
some of His hair off in doing so. They make the crown smaller. Now it is too small, and
al-though they press it down, driving the thorns into His head, it threatens to fall. They
take it off once again, tearing more of His hair. They adjust it, and it now fits. At the front
there are three thorny cords. At the back, where the ends of the three branches interweave, there is a real knot of thorns that penetrate into the nape of His neck.
21
Hail Mary...
Do You see how well You look? Natural bronze and real rubies. Look at Yourself, O
king says the inventor of the torture scoffingly.
The other soldier says: A crown is not sufficient to make a king. Purple and sceptre
are required. In the stable there is a cane, and in the sewer there is a red chlamys. Get
them, Cornelius.
Hail Mary...
And once they have them, they put the dirty red rag on Jesus shoulders. But before
putting the cane in His hands, they beat His head with it, bowing and greeting: Hail,
king of the Jews. And they roar with laugh-ter.
Hail Mary...
Jesus does not react. He lets them sit Him on the throne which is a tub for watering
horses, turned upside-down. He lets them strike and scoff at Him, without ever uttering a
word. He only looks at them, with glances of such kindness and such atrocious sorrow...
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
And in the midst of the loud noise of weeping women and cursing Judaeans, Jesus sets
out again.
Hail Mary
Jesus is staggering more and more, and knocks first into one line of soldiers, and then
into the other...
They decide to overcome the difficulty by passing a rope round His waist, holding the
two ends as if they were reins The rope shifts the Cross on His shoulder and makes
it strike the crown, which by now has turned Jesus' forehead into a bleeding tattoo mark.
Furthermore, the rope rubs against His waist, where there are many wounds, and it
certainly makes them bleed again So, in order to help Him, they make Him suffer
more.
Suddenly, there is John, with Mary Who is exhausted, panting, and as white as
death Stately in Her grief, and supported by John - who is holding Her by the elbow
She leaves the hillside, and places Herself resolutely in the middle of the road
Longinus shakes his head while passing by on horseback, followed by eleven soldiers
Hail Mary...
Longinus sees a cart with its load of greens and the man from Cyrene, with his
two sons (He is) a very strong-looking man, about forty to fifty years old, standing
near his little donkey...
Longinus looks him up and down, and says to him in a commanding voice: Man,
come here.
The man from Cyrene pretends he has not heard. But one cannot trifle with Longinus
Do you see that man? he asks. And in doing so, he turns round to point out Jesus.
When Longinus sees Mary - Who is imploring the soldiers to let Her pass - he takes pity
on Her and he shouts: Let the Woman pass. He then resumes speaking to the man
from Cyrene: He cannot go any further, laden as He is. You are strong. Take His Cross
and carry it as far as the summit.
I cannot I have the donkey it is restless the boys cannot hold it
But Longinus says: Go, if you do not want to lose your donkey and get twenty blows
as punishment.
The man from Cyrene dare not react any longer. He shouts to the boys: Go home and
be quick. And say that I am coming
He then goes towards Jesus. He reaches Jesus just as He turns towards His Mother
and shouts: Mother!
In that cry there is all the dreadful sorrow of His spirit, of His morale, of His body
Mary presses Her hand against Her heart, as if She had been stabbed. She staggers, but
collects Herself, quickens Her step, and while going towards Her tortured Son with
outstretched arms, She shouts: Son!
I notice signs of compassion even among the Romans The man from Cyrene also
feels pity And when he sees that Mary cannot embrace Her Son because of the Cross
He hastens to remove the Cross. He does so with the gentleness of a father, in order not
to give a shove to the crown, or rub against His sores.
But Mary cannot kiss Her Son Even the lightest touch would be a torture for His torn
flesh... Only the two anguished souls kiss each other.
Hail Mary...
The procession sets out again
Jesus, freed of the weight of the Cross, is proceeding more easily. But He is panting
violently, often pressing His hand against His heart, as if He had a great pain or a wound
there
24
Mary has withdrawn with the other women. She follows the procession once it has
passed, and then, along a short cut, She turns Her steps to-wards the top of the
mountain...
On the top of Calvary there are already three deep holes lined with bricks or slates,
that is, built for a special purpose. Near them there are stones and earth ready to prop up
the crosses...
Hail Mary...
The three sides of the mountain, where the slopes descend gently towards the valley, are
all crowded with people
The men responsible for the execution prepare their instruments, and finish emptying
the holes. The condemned men wait in the middle of the square formed by the soldiers.
And the Jews, who have taken shelter in the corner opposite Mary and the Magdalene,
insult them
Longinus has dismounted (and now) everything is ready on the sum-mit. The
condemned men are made to go up Jesus passes near His Mother, Who utters a groan which She tries to stifle
As soon as the condemned men are on the fatal platform, the soldiers surround the open
space on three sides. Only the side with a sheer drop is empty.
The centurion orders the man from Cyrene to go away. He does so, un-willingly now...
The two robbers throw their crosses on the ground, swearing. Jesus is silent.
The
sorrowful way has come to its end.
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
Jesus, Who had closed His eyes, utters a cry, has a contraction be-cause of the sharp
pain, and opens His eyes, flooded with tears
Mary replies to the cry of Her tortured Son with a groan But the strokes continue,
methodical and hard, iron striking iron
The right hand is now nailed. They pass on to the left one. The hole in the wood does
not correspond to the wrist. So they take a rope, tie it to the left wrist, and pull it until the
joint is dislocated, tearing tendons and muscles They then nail the hand where they
can, that is, between the thumb and the other fingers
Those who were sitting on Jesus' chest, now get up and move to His knees, because
Jesus, with an involuntary movement, withdraws His legs upon seeing the very long nail,
which is twice as long and thick as those used for the hands... And they hammer, and
hammer, and hammer
The harsh noise of iron is accompanied by the low plaintive lament of a dove: the hoarse
groaning of Mary, Who bends more and more at each stroke
The Cross is now dragged near the hole, jerking on the uneven ground, and shaking the
poor Crucified
But when they let the Cross drop into its hole, and before being made fast with stones
and earth, it sways in all directions shifting the poor Body which hangs from three
nails... At long last the Cross is made fast, and there is only the torture of being suspended
Hail Mary...
At the top there is now the Cross of Jesus. At the sides the other two crosses
Longinus is standing up-right between the Cross of Jesus and the one on the right. And
he seems to be mounting guard of honour for the Martyr King
While looking around, Longinus sees Mary, just under the slope, with Her tormented
face raised towards Her Son. He calls one of the soldiers: If His Mother wants to
come up with the son who is escorting Her, let Her come. Escort Her and help Her.
And Mary with John, who is believed to be Her son passes beyond the cordon of
soldiers, and goes to the foot of the Cross...
The crowd showers the most disgraceful abuses on Her at once They then howl in
chorus: Descend from the Cross and we will believe You. You Who want to destroy the
Temple11 Fool! Look at it over there, the glorious and holy Temple of Israel. It is
untouchable, o blasphemer!12 And You are dying.
Hail Mary...
One of the Pharisees says: Let us go to Lazarus, and nail him on the other side of the
Cross.
And while the other women, struck with terror, run behind the shepherds, Mary
Magdalene comes forward, and finding in her grief the ancient boldness of her days of
sin, she says: Go. You will already find the soldiers of Rome in the mansion, with five
hundred armed men of my land, and they will castrate you like old billygoats destined to
feed the slaves of millstones.
Longinus gives an order, and fifty soldiers, who were resting, come into action. And
they prick the buttocks of the first Judaeans they find
Jesus is silent, but panting He tries to find some relief by reducing the weight on His
feet, pulling Himself up with His arms and hanging from His hands
His thirst must be burning. So much so that He drinks the drops of His perspiration
and His tears, as well as those of His blood, that run down from His forehead to His
moustache
Hail Mary...
26
The Judaeans, driven beyond the open space, do not stop insulting, and the unrepentant
robber echoes their insults.
The other robber now looks at the Mother with deeper and deeper com-passion He
says to Her: We are criminals. Our mothers are dead I would like to ask mine to
forgive me But shall I be able? She was a holy woman I killed her with the sorrow I
gave her I am a sinner Who will forgive me? Mother, in the name of Your dying
Son, pray for me.
The Mother, for a moment, raises Her tortured face and looks at him... She seems to
caress him, with Her kind gentle eyes
Then Jesus speaks for the first time: Father, forgive them because they do not know
what they are doing13!
This prayer overcomes all fear in Dismas, the robber. He dares to look at the Christ, and
says: Lord, remember me when You are in Your Kingdom I now repent of my sins
before You, the Son of the Most High. I believe that You come from God. I believe in
Your power. I believe in Your mercy. Christ, forgive me in the name of Your Mother,
and of Your Most Holy Father.
Jesus turns His Head and looks at him with deep compassion He says: I tell you:
today you will be with Me in Paradise14.
The repentant robber calms down
The light, previously very bright, is becoming greenish It is in this frightening
twilight that Jesus gives John to Mary and Mary to John 15. He lowers His head, because
the Mother has gone closer to the Cross to see Him better, and He says: Woman, this is
Your son. Son, this is your Mother.
The poor Mother tries to stifle Her tears, but it is impossible for Her not to weep
Jesus' sufferings increase more and more. And the light fades more and more
Hail Mary...
At a certain moment, Jesus collapses forward and downwards...
Mary utters a cry: He is dead! A tragic cry that spreads in the dark air. Jesus seems
really dead And a volley of stones and clods of earth fly towards the cross, hitting the
Martyr and falling back on the armour of the Romans
Jesus moans pitifully and recovers His senses. He begins to breathe again and His
head moves from left to right...
Then with great difficulty Jesus stiffens on the Cross, He stands upright raises His
face and shouts in a loud voice: Eloi, Eloi, lamma scebacteni! confessing His
Father's abandonment16
People shout: Let us see whether Elijah, whom He is calling, will come to save
Him.
The avalanches of desolate grief... and the waves of the sins of all the world come back
to strike the shipwrecked innocent, and to submerge Him in their bitterness. And above
all, what returns is the sensation - more crucifying than the Cross itself, more despairing
than any torture - that God has abandoned Him, and that His prayer does not rise to His
Father
Hail Mary...
Darkness becomes deeper. Jerusalem disappears completely And from that light,
which is no longer light, comes the plaintive voice of Jesus: I am thirsty! A soldier
goes towards a jar (which contains) some vinegar and gall17... He takes the sponge
immersed in the liquid, sticks it on a thin, stiff cane and offers it to the Dying Victim.
Jesus leans forward eagerly greedily sucks the sour bitter drink, and His face shows
disgust...
27
He withdraws, loses heart, abandons Himself And fainter and fainter, sounding like a
child's wailing, comes the invocation: Mother, where are You? She says: Your
Mother is here, She is here
It is heart-rending. John weeps openly Longinus is now standing at attention as
if he were on the steps of the imperial throne and his eyes begin to shine with tears that
only his iron discipline can control
Hail Mary...
There is dead silence. Then in utter darkness, the words: Every-thing is accomplished!
are clearly heard, and Jesus death-rattle grows louder and louder...
Time passes There is silence again. Then the supplication pronounced with infinite
kindness, with fervent prayer: Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit!18
Further silence. The death-rattle becomes fainter...
Then, there is the last spasm of Jesus. A dreadful convulsion that seems to tear the body
hanging by the three nails from the Cross And then a powerful cry, unimaginable in
that exhausted body, bursts forth, the loud cry mentioned by the Gospels19 and is the
first part of the word Mother And nothing else
His head falls on His chest, His body leans forward, the trembling stops, He breathes no
more. He has breathed His last.
Hail Mary...
The Earth (gives) a frightening rumble Lightning streaks the sky in all directions,
falling on the town, on the Temple, on the crowd Immediately afterwards (there is an)
earthquake and a tornado
John grasps the Cross with one arm, and supports Mary with the other People fall one
on top of one another they fall into the openings of the ground and they roll down
the slope
Mary raises Her head and looks at Her Jesus She calls Him three times: Jesus!
Jesus! Jesus! Then, as a lightning flash forms a kind of crown over the top of
Golgotha, She sees Him, motionless, all bent forward and She understands. She
stretches out Her hands in the dark air and shouts: My Son! My Son! My Son!
Longinus approaches John, and in a low voice, he says something to him Then he
makes a soldier give him a lance. He looks at the women: who are attending to Mary,
Who is slowly recovering Her strength. They all have their backs to the Cross.
Longinus places himself in front of the Crucified Jesus, he ponders care-fully how to
deal the blow, and he strikes. The lance penetrates deeply from the bottom upwards, from
right to left.
It is done, my friend says Longinus. Better so. As for a knight. And without
fracturing bones20 He was really a Just Man!
A lot of water and just a trickle of blood, already tending to clot, drip from the wound
Hail Mary...
... Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea arrive with ladders, and (having secured)
Pilate's permission to remove the Body They climb with levers and tongs
Mary has already placed Herself with Her back against the foot of the Cross, ready to
receive Her Jesus in Her lap.
The left palm is un-nailed and then the feet John has to make a great effort to hold
and support the Body of his Master, between the Cross and his own body.
But the un-nailing of the right arm is the most difficult operation... At last the nail is
seized with the tongs, and pulled out gently and they cautiously bring the Body down
the ladd-ers.
28
When on the ground, they would like to lay Him on the sheet that they have spread over
their mantles. But Mary wants Him. She has opened Her mantle, letting it hang on one
side, and She sits with Her knees rather apart, to form a cradle for Her Jesus
He is now in His Mother's lap Mary is holding Him with Her right arm round His
shoulders and Her left one stretched over the abdomen to support Him by the hips
When She succeeds in removing the torturing crown, She bends to cure all the scratches
of the thorns with Her kisses.
She wipes the tears that drop on the cold body, covered with blood. And She thinks of
cleaning it with Her tears, and with Her veil which is still around Jesus' loins. She pulls
one end of the veil towards Herself, and She begins to clean and dry the holy limbs with
it
While doing so, Her hand touches the gash on His chest21. Her little hand, covered with
the linen veil, enters almost completely into the large hole of the wound. Mary bends to
see, in the dim light... And She sees. She sees the chest torn open, and the heart of Her
Son. She utters a cry. A sword seems to be splitting Her heart. She shouts, and then
throws Herself on Her Son. And She seems dead, too...
They succour and console Her. They want to take Her divine, Dead Son away from
Her, and She shouts: Where, where shall I put You? In which place, safe and worthy of
You?
Joseph says: Take courage, o Woman! My sepulchre is new, and worthy of a great
man. I give it to Him But I beg You, as it is getting dark22, let us proceed
With Nicodemus and John at the shoulders, Joseph at the feet, they lift the Corpse,
enveloped in the sheet, and resting on the mantles which act as a stretcher. And they set
off down the road.
Mary, supported by the Magdalene and the other women disciples, goes down towards
the sepulchre with them
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
o o 0 o o
played on a coarse board, or traced on a path. Then they would have become tired and
left things as they are now, as they tried to find more or less comfortable postures for
sleeping, or for keeping watch.
Hail Mary...
To the east, in the clear sky, there is now a completely rosy zone, spreading out more
and more widely, although there are no sunbeams as yet. A very bright meteor appears,
coming from unknown depths. And it descends like a sphere of fire of unsustainable
splendour, followed by a glowing trail, which perhaps is nothing but the persistence of its
brightness in the retinae of our eyes. It descends at a very high speed towards the Earth,
shedding such an intense light, frightful in its beauty, that the rosy light of dawn
vanishes, outshone by such white incandescence.
Hail Mary...
The guards, astonished, raise their heads. And with the light there comes a mighty,
harmonious, solemn rumble, that fills the whole of Creation with its roar2. It comes from
heavenly depths. It is the alleluia, the angelical glory, that follows the Spirit of the Christ,
which is returning to His glorious Flesh.
The meteor clashes on the useless stone closure of the Sepulchre, tears it off, throws it
on the ground, and it strikes - with terror and noise - the guards who had been placed as
jailers of the Master of the Universe. With its return to the Earth, the meteor produces a
new earthquake, like it had caused when this Spirit of the Lord fled from the Earth 3. It
enters the dark Sepulchre, that now becomes all bright with its indescribable light. And
while it remains suspended in the still air, the Spirit is infused again into the Body,
motionless under the funereal band-ages.
Hail Mary...
All this takes place: not in a minute, but in a fraction of a minute, so fast have been the
appearance, descent, penetration and the dis-appearance of the Light of God
The I want , of the divine Spirit to its cold Body, is noiseless. It is uttered by the
Essence, to the immobile Matter. But no word is perceived by the human ear. The Flesh
receives the order, and obeys it with a deep sigh Nothing else, for some minutes.
Hail Mary...
Under the Sudarium and the Shroud, the glorious Body is recomposed in eternal beauty.
It awakens from the sleep of death4, it comes back from the nothing in which it was,
and it lives, after being dead. The heart certainly awakens and gives its first throb. It
propels the remaining frozen blood through the veins, and at once creates the full
measure of it in the empty arteries, in the immobile lungs, and in the dark brain. And it
brings back warmth, health, strength, and thought.
Another moment, and there is a sudden movement under the heavy Shroud5. It is so
sudden, that from the moment He certainly moves His folded arms, to the moment He
appears: standing, imposing, splendid in His garment of immaterial matter, supernaturally
handsome and majestic, with a gravity that changes and elevates Him, and yet leaves Him
exactly Himself - the eye has hardly time to follow the development. It admires Him,
although He is so different from what the mind remembers. He is tidied up - without
wounds or blood and is now blazing with the light which gushes from the five wounds,
and which issues from every pore of His skin.
Hail Mary...
He takes His first step. And in this movement, the rays - emanating from His Hands and
Feet - halo Him with beams of light. His Head is haloed with a garland, made with the
count-less little wounds of the Crown of Thorns. They no longer bleed, they only shine.
30
When He opens His arms - that were folded across His chest - He uncovers a zone of
very bright luminosity, that filters through His tunic, inflaming it like a sun, at the height
of His Heart. Now it is really the Light that has taken a body. It is not the poor light of
the Earth, not the poor light of the stars, not the poor light of the sun - but it is the Light
of God...
Hail Mary...
This Light of God, in all the heavenly brightness, gathers into one Being, and grants
Him its inconceivable azure as eyes, its golden fire as hair, its angelic whiteness as
garment and complexion, and all that exists, but cannot be described by human words. It
is the utterly distinct ardour of the Most Holy Trinity, that outshines - with its ardent
power - every fire in Paradise, absorbing Him, in Itself, to generate Him again at each
moment of the eternal Time. The Light that forms the Risen Christ is the Heart of
Heaven, that attracts and spreads His blood, the countless drops of His incorporeal blood.
This Light is also the blessed souls, the angels, everything that is Paradise: the love of
God, and the love for God...
Hail Mary...
He moves towards the exit, and beyond His brightness, two most beautiful brilliances
appear. They are similar to stars compared with the sun. There is one on this side, and
one on the other side of the threshold. They are prostrated in adoration of their God, Who
passes by, enveloped in His light, and beatifying with His smile. And He leaves the
funereal grotto, and returns to walk on the earth. This earth awakens out of joy, and
shines in its dews. The colours of herbs and roseries, and the countless corollas of appletrees, open - by a wonder - to the early sun that kisses them, and to the eternal Sun Who
proceeds under them.
Hail Mary...
The guards are there, shocked The corrupt powers of man do not see God. Whereas
the pure powers of the universe - the flowers, herbs, birds - admire and venerate the
Mighty One, Who passes by in a halo of His own Light, and in a crown of sunlight.
He smiles, and everything that His eyes rest upon flowers, dead branches, and the
clear sky - every-thing becomes more beautiful. More soft and shaded than a silky rosery,
are the millions of petals, which form a flowery foam on the head of the Conqueror.
Brighter are the diamonds of the dew. Of a deeper blue is the sky reflecting His shining
eyes. And more joyful is the sun, that with glad-ness paints a little cloud - blown by a
light wind - that comes to kiss its King: with perfumes stolen from gardens, and with
caresses of silky petals.
Jesus raises His Hand and blesses, and then - while the birds sing more loudly and
the wind carries its perfumes - He disappears...
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
31
(The Mother of Jesus, His apostles, and a large crowd of disciples, have
gathered to witness the Ascension of Jesus into Heaven...)
Jesus calls before Him the shepherds, Lazarus, Joseph, Nicodemus, Manaen, and the
others of the seventy-two disciples. But He particularly keeps the shepherds close to
Himself, saying: Here. You were near the Lord Who had come from Heaven... You are
to be near the Lord Who is going back to Heaven, with your souls rejoicing because of
His glorification. You have deserved this place, because you did believe notwithstanding that all the circumstances were unfavourable - and you were able to
suffer, for your faith. I thank you for your faithful love.
Hail Mary...
I thank all of you. You, My friend Lazarus, you, Joseph, and you, Nicodemus, who took
pity on the Christ - when to do so might have been very dangerous. You, Manaen - who
despised the filthy favours of an unclean man, to follow Me on My way. You, Stephen flowery crown of justice - who left what was imperfect for what was perfect. You will be
crowned with a garland, with which you are not yet acquainted 6. But it will be announced
to you by the angels. You John, for a short period of time brother to the most pure breast.
You have come more to the Light, than to the sight And you, good women disciples,
stronger, in your kindness, than Judith8.
Hail Mary...
And you, Marjiam, My child. From now on you will be called Martial, in remembrance
of a Roman boy, who was killed on the road. He was laid at Lazarus' gate with the defiant
words: "Now tell the Galilean to bring you back to life again, if He is the Christ, and has
risen from the dead". He was the last of the innocents who lost their lives in Palestine, to
serve Me9 and first of the innocents of every Nation who have come to the Christ.
They will be hated for that, and extinguished prematurely, like buds of flowers torn off
the stems before blooming. And may this name - o Martial - show you your future
destiny. Be the apostle in barbarian countries, and conquer them for your Lord, as My
love won Heaven for the Roman boy.
Hail Mary...
You are all blessed by Me in this farewell. From the Father, I invoke the reward for
those who have comforted the sorrowful journey of the Son of Man. Blessed be the
chosen ones of Mankind, among Hebrews and Gen-tiles, who have manifested themselves in their love for Me. Blessed be the Earth with its herbs, its flowers, and its fruits that have given Me pleasure and refreshment so many times. Blessed be the Earth with its
waters and its tepidness, and with its birds and its animals - that many a time exceeded
man, in giving relief to the Son of Man. May you be blessed, sun, and you, sea, and you,
moun-tains, hills, and plains.
Hail Mary...
Blessed are you, stars, My companions in My night prayers, and in My sorrow. And
you, moon, who illuminated Me as I wandered around in My evangelizing pilgrimages.
May all you creatures be blessed. You are the works of My Father. And you are My
companions in this mortal hour, friendly to Him Who had left Heaven, to relieve tortured
Mankind of the troubles caused by the Sin that separates from God. And may you also be
blessed, you innocent instruments of My torture: thorns, metals, wood, and twisted hemp.
Because you have assisted Me in fulfilling the will of My Father!
Hail Mary...
How thundering is Jesus' voice! It spreads through the tepid, calm air, like a bronze
gong that has been struck. It propagates in waves over the sea of faces, looking at Him
from all directions.
32
I say that there are hundreds of people around Jesus as He goes up, with His more
beloved ones, towards the top of the Mount of Olives. But when Jesus arrives at the Field
of the Galileans - in which this time there are no tents - He says to His disciples: Stop
the people where they are, and then follow Me.
Hail Mary...
He climbs farther up, as far as the highest summit of the mountain. This is the summit
closer to Bethany - which it dominates from above - than to Jerusalem. Close to Him are
His Mother, the Apostles, Lazarus, the shepherds and Marjiam. Farther away - in a
semicircle and holding the people back - are the other disciples.
Jesus is standing on a large stone, which protrudes a little, and which stands out in its
whiteness in the grass of a clearing. He is brightly illuminated by the sun - which makes
His garment shine as white as snow - and His hair is like gold. His eyes sparkle in a
divine light. He opens out His arms in the gesture of an embrace. He seems to be wishing
to press - to His chest - the multitudes of the Earth, whom His spirit sees, represented in
that crowd. His unforgettable and inimitable voice gives the last order: Go! Go, in My
Name, to evangelize the peoples as far as the ends of the Earth. God be with you. May
His Love comfort you, may His Light guide you, may His Peace dwell in you until you
reach eternal life.
Hail Mary...
He becomes transfigured in beauty. Handsome! As handsome and even more so than He
was on Tabor10. They all fall on their knees, worshipping, while He is already rising from
the stone on which He was standing, He looks once again for the face of His Mother, and
His smile reaches a power that no one will ever be able to express It is His last
goodbye to His Mother.
Hail Mary...
He rises, rises The sun - now more free to kiss Him, as no foliage, not even a thin
leaf, intercepts its beams brightens, with its splendour, the God-Man. With His most
Holy Body, He is ascending to Heaven. And He displays His glorious Wounds, that shine
like living rubies. The rest is a pearly smile of light. It is really the Light that is revealing
itself for what it is, at this last moment, as on Christmas night.
Creation sparkles, in the light of the Christ Who is ascending. A light exceeding that of
the sun. A super-human and most blissful light. A light descending from Heaven, to meet
the Light ascending to it And Jesus Christ, the Word of God, dis-appears from the
sight of men, in this ocean of brightness
Hail Mary...
On the earth, there are only two noises in the deep silence of the ecstatic crowd: that of
Mary Who cries: Jesus! when He disappears; and the weeping of the shepherd Isaac.
The others are struck dumb with holy astonishment.
And they remain there - as if they were waiting - until two snow-white angelical lights
in human form appear, saying: Men of Galilee, why do you stand, looking up to
Heaven? This Jesus, Who was taken up from you into Heaven, shall come back to you in
the same way.11
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
34
The reading is over. Mary's voice stops. The rustling of the parchments, rolled and
unrolled, comes to an end. Mary concentrates in secret prayer, joining Her hands on Her
breast, and leaning Her head on the wooden chest. The apostles imitate Her
A very loud and harmonious roar - that resembles the wind and the harp, as well as
human singing and the sound of a perfect organ - suddenly resounds in the silence of the
morning. It comes near, more and more harmonious and loud. And with its vibrations, it
fills the Earth, propagates them, and impresses them on the house, on the walls, on the
furniture. The flame of the chandelier - so far very still in the peace of the closed room flickers as if a wind were blowing. And the little chains of the chandelier tinkle, vibrating
under the wave of supernatural sound that strikes them.
Hail Mary...
The apostles raise their heads, frightened. And as that most beautiful rumble - in which
are all the loveliest notes that God gave the Heavens and the Earth - approaches them
more and more, some stand up ready to run away; some crouch on the floor, covering
their heads with their hands and mantles, or beat their breasts asking God to forgive
them; and some press against Mary, too frightened to keep the reserve they always have
for the Most Pure Mother. Only John is not frightened, because he sees the bright peace
of joy that is accentuated on the face of Mary, Who raises Her head, smiling at a thing
known to Her alone, and Who then slides down on Her knees, opening Her arms. And the
two blue wings of Her mantle, also opened, stretch out on Peter and John, who have
imitated Her, kneeling down. But all this, which took me some minutes to describe, has
taken place in less than one minute.
Hail Mary...
And then the Light, the Fire, the Holy Spirit enters, with a last melodious loud noise, in
the form of a very shining burning globe, into the closed room, without any door or
window being moved. And It remains, hovering for a minute about three palms above
Mary's head, which is now uncovered. Because Mary, upon seeing the Fire Paraclete, has
raised Her arms to invoke Him, and has thrown Her head back with a cry of joy, and a
smile of boundless love. And after that moment in which all the Fire of the Holy Spirit,
all the Love, is collected in His Spouse, the Most Holy Globe splits into thirteen very
bright flames - of so bright a light that no earthy comparison can describe - and it
descends to kiss the forehead of each apostle.
Hail Mary...
But the flame that kisses Mary on Her forehead is not a tongue of a straight flame, but it
is a crown that embraces and encircles the virginal head like a wreath, crowning, as
Queen, the Daughter, the Mother, the Spouse of God, the Incorruptible Virgin, the
Totally Beautiful, the Eternally Loved, the Eternally Maiden - Whom nothing can
humiliate, Whom sorrow had aged, but Who has revived in the joy of the Resurrection.
She is sharing with Her Son an accentuation of beauty and freshness of bodies, of looks,
of vitality having already an advance of the beauty of Her glorious Body, received into
Heaven to be the flower of Paradise.
Hail Mary...
The Holy Spirit makes His flames shine round the head of His Beloved. Which words
does He speak to Her? Mystery! Her blessed face is transfigured with supernatural joy,
and smiles with the smiles of Seraphim, while blissful tears shine like diamonds on the
cheeks of the Blessed Virgin, struck as they are by the Light of the Holy Spirit.
The Fire remains so for some time Then it vanishes In memory of its descent, there
remains a fragrance that no earthly flower can ex-hale The Perfume of Paradise
Hail Mary...
35
The apostles collect themselves Mary remains in Her ecstasy. She folds Her arms
across Her breast, closes Her eyes, lowers Her head Her conversation with God
continues insensible to everything No one dare disturb Her.
John, pointing at Her, says: She is the altar. And the Glory of the Lord has rested on
Her glory
Yes. Let us not upset Her joy. But let us go and preach the Lord says Peter, with
supernatural impulsiveness. And let His works and His words be known to all people.
Let us go! Let us go! The Spirit of God is burning in me says James of Alphaeus.
And it is urging us to act. All of us. Let us go and evangelize the peoples14.
They go out as if they were pushed or attracted by a wind, or by a vigorous force.
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
John has calmed down a little - although still somewhat upset, listening to Mary - and at
the last part of Her speech looks at Her ecstatically, and almost enraptured as well. He is
as pale in his face as Mary, Whose pallor, however, changes into a very white light. He
rushes towards Her to support Her, and he exclaims: You are like Jesus when He
became transfigured on Tabor!15 Your flesh is shining like the moon! You are light!
But You are not Jesus. He, being God, besides being Man, could stand by Himself, there,
upon Tabor, as He did here, on the Mount of Olives, when He as-cended16. You cannot.
You cannot stand. Come. I will help You to lay Your tired blessed body on Your little
bed. Rest. And he lovingly leads Her towards the poor bed, on which Mary lies without
even taking off Her mantle.
Folding Her arms across Her breast, closing Her eyelids on Her kind eyes, bright with
love, She says to John who is bent over Her: I am in God. And God is in Me17. While I
contemplate Him and feel His embrace, say the psalms, and any other pages of the
Scriptures which become Me, particularly in this hour. The Spirit of Wisdom will point
them out to you. Then say the prayer of My Son, repeat the words of the announcing
Archangel, and of Elizabeth to Me, and My hymn of praise I will follow you with what
I still have of Myself on the Earth
John struggles against the tears that rise from his heart... His beautiful voice, as years
have gone by, has become very like that of Jesus. Mary notices this with a smile, saying:
I seem to have My Jesus beside Me! He intones psalm one hundred and eighteen 18 which he says almost entirely - then the first three verses of psalm forty-one19, the first
eight of psalm thirty-eight20, psalm twenty-two21, and psalm one22. He then says the Our
Father23, the words of Gabriel and Elizabeth24, the canticle of Tobias25, and the twentyfourth chapter of Ecclesiasticus - from verse eleven to forty-six26. Lastly, he intones the
"Magnificat"27. But when he arrives at verse nine, he notices that Mary does not breathe
any more, although She is still natural in Her posture and appearance, smiling, peaceful,
as if She had not noticed that life had stopped.
Hail Mary...
John, with a heart-rending cry, throws himself on the floor against the edge of the bed,
and calls and calls Mary. He cannot convince himself that She is no longer able to reply
to him, and that Her body is now deprived of the vital soul He bends over Her face still fixed in an expression of supernatural joy - and tears stream copiously from his eyes
on that sweet face, and on those pure hands so gently folded on Her breast. These tears
are the only washing that Mary's body had: those of the Apostle of love, and of Her son
by adoption - by Jesus' will28.
When the first transport of sorrow is over, John - remembering Mary's wish - picks up
the edges of Her wide linen mantle and the edges of the veil, hanging from the pillow.
He spreads the former over Her body, and the latter on Her head. Mary is now like a
statue of white marble, laid on the cover of a stone coffin. John contemplates Her at some
length, and more tears fall from his eyes as he does so.
Then he rearranges the room, removing all superfluous furniture. He leaves only the
bed, the little table against the wall on which he places the chest with the relics - a stool
that he places near the door leading to the terrace, the bed on which Mary is lying, and a
shelf with a lamp on it. John then lights the lamp, as it is beginning to get dark.
He hurries down to Gethsemane, to pick as many flowers as he can, and some branches
of olive-trees, with olives already on them. He comes back up to the little room, and in
the light of the lamp, he arranges the flowers and the branches around Mary's body, as if
it were in the centre of a huge wreath...
(He then pours his heart out to Her as though She were still alive. Then after he has
arranged everything)
37
He sits on the stool, placing the lamp on the floor, near the little bed; and he
contemplates the body lying on it, praying...
Hail Mary...
(It is much later...)
How many days have gone by? It is difficult to ascertain. If one judges by the flowers
that form a crown around the dead body, one should say that only a few hours have gone
by. But if one judges by the olive branches on which the fresh flowers are lying branches with leaves al-ready withered - and by the other withered flowers lying like
relics on the cover of the chest, one must conclude that some days have now gone by.
But Mary's body is exactly the same as it was when She breathed Her last. There is no
trace of death on Her face, or on Her little hands. There is no unpleasant smell in the
room. On the contrary, an undefinable scent - like that of incense, of lilies, of roses, of
lilies of the valley, of mountain herbs, all mixed together - hangs in the air of the room.
I wonder for how many days John has been awake, and has fallen asleep, overcome by
tiredness...
It must be already dawn, because in its faint light, the terrace and the olive-trees
surrounding the house are visible. The light becomes stronger and stronger, and as it
penetrates through the door, it makes more dis-tinct the objects in the room...
Hail Mary...
All of a sudden a strong light fills the room. It is a silvery light, shaded with blue,
almost phosphoric. And it becomes more and more intense, making the light of dawn and
of the lamp vanish. It is a light like the one that flooded the Grotto in Bethlehem at the
moment of the divine Nativity. Then, in this light of Paradise, angelic creatures show
themselves, with a light even brighter than the already strong light that appeared first.
Just as it happened when the angels appeared to the shepherds 29, a dance of sparks, of all
shades, bursts forth from their gently moving wings - which emit a harmonious murmur,
as sweet as if it were played by a harp.
The angelic creatures place themselves around the little bed. They bend over it, lift the
immobile body, and flap their wings more vigorously, increasing the sound that existing
previously. And they go away through a passage opened miraculously in the roof, as
miraculously as Jesus' Sepulchre was opened 30. They take with them the body of their
Queen. It is a Most Holy Body, it is true, but it is not yet glorified. Therefore it is still
subject to the laws of matter, to which the Christ was not subject, because He was already
glorified when He rose from the dead. The sound made by the angelic wings increases,
and it is now as powerful as the sound of an organ.
Hail Mary...
(The Virgin Mary in the Writings of Maria Valtorta, pp. 385-7)
(In a separate vision, Maria describes the crowd of angels coming out of the roof of the
tiny house...)
... The angels are luminous, handsome, animated. They neither sing nor speak. They all
seem to be absorbed in a loving occupation, which causes their faces to blaze with joy.
Remaining in a bent posture - as though standing around a hole - they observe. Then they
spread out their pearly wings and form two lines. Their smiles broaden, and their lilywhite, pearly, diamond light turns brighter I would say that the angels light absorbs
the dawn, as well as the rays from the last stars and the last moonbeams. The moon, still
visible, is like a thin sickle, in a sky that is turning brighter...
Then, like a wave overflowing a dam, an intense radiance flashes from the top of the
(little house), which is surging with angels heads and wings and bodies. I can see our
Mother in their midst. They are carrying Her in their arms.
38
She seems like a child, sleeping, and dreaming sweet dreams. She is completely
dressed in white, or rather a pearly grey, of brand new, very fine linen. She is wearing a
coat, a veil, and a long train of fine linen that might be Her winding sheet. Her face is no
darker that the linen - it seems made of magnolia buds - and Her delicate eyelashes draw
two some-what dark commas on Her snow white face. Her hands are joined on Her
maternal womb, as high as the stomach, with Her fingertips pointing towards Her groins.
These hands seem to be shielding the womb which was sanctified by Gods Incarnation.
They also seem like magnolia petals, laying on Her snowy clothing.
Hail Mary...
Mary seems asleep. Her head, leaning slightly to the right, is sup-ported by an angel. He
is filled with veneration, as befits someone carrying an important relic. A smile has
remained on Marys face. It may have been left behind by Her last, loving thought.
Some of the angels rise, carrying the sacred Burden, while the others surround Her,
forming a crown. Mary is being flown in the turquoise air, towards the last stars and the
pale moon. The world is not aware that its Queen is being taken to Her throne.
I can see the angelic cohort as it soars. The cohorts ranks are swollen by many angels,
coming down swiftly from the serene sky to meet them, in a holy haste to venerate their
Queen. As the earth becomes more distant I can see... how small it is! It is a handful of
dirty mud... As Heaven draws nearer, I can see that Mary is emerging from Her deep
slumber, and seems just about to awaken. Her face colours slightly, like the face of
someone coming out of a swoon. Her lips, parting as She begins to breathe more deeply,
turn a redder blue.
Hail Mary...
The sky is completely pink in the east. The first sunbeam shines forth. It is not aimed at
the earth, but, flashing like lightning, it reaches the One being assumed in the sky. It
embraces Her, and clothes Her with a most delicate, coral-like glow - yellowish and
pinkish at the same time. It is a warm kiss, calling Her. Mary slowly opens her sky-blue
eyes, while the sky - so close to Her - sur-rounds Her with its blue depths. By now the
handful of mud, the earth, is no longer visible. It has disappeared, with all its miseries.
Marys eyes are opened; She can see the angels ... She smiles, and sees the angels smile.
She lifts Her eyes higher and higher, until She sees Gods glory. She stands up... The
angels hardly need guide Her, but they remain around Her. It appears that She no longer
needs any support to be assumed. She is already the Queen of Heaven. The angels are
only spiritual servants, sur-rounding Her, to smile at Her.
Mary, standing straight, is happy. Her hands are crossed above Her, in an act of
adoration. The cohort of an-gels sing in the midst of their now unbearable light.
At this point, Mary is also a dazzling light. Her veil, train and tunic are no longer linen:
they are immat-erial clothing, spun from diamonds and embroidered with pearls, such as
I always see on Her. Her beauty is increased with indescribable majesty. She seems to be
younger, eternally young. She is no older than Her Son and Lord. In the angels midst,
Jesus is coming to greet Her. She seems to be Beauty at the side of Majesty.
The Heavens close behind the procession, which has entered amidst incandescent
flames, of love, and of heavenly harmonies.
Hail Mary...
(The Poem Vol. 5, pp. 935-8)
(Going back in time, John has been disturbed by the light, the current of air from the
open roof, and the sounds. He realises that a wonderful event has taken place. He runs
out on the terrace, and looks upwards...)
And he sees. He sees the body of Mary - still deprived of life, and completely identical
to that of a person asleep - that ascends higher and higher, supported by the angelic
39
group Some flowers - the ones that John had placed and renewed round the body of
Mary, and which have certainly remained among the folds of Her garments - rain on the
terrace and on the ground of Gethsemane. And the mighty hosanna of the angelic group
moves further and further away, and becomes fainter.
John continues to stare at that body that rises towards Heaven, and, certainly through a
prodigy granted to him by God - to comfort him, and to reward him for his love for his
adoptive Mother - he distinctly sees Mary, enveloped now in the beams of the rising sun.
She comes out of the ecstasy that had separated Her soul from Her body. She becomes
alive, standing on Her feet, as She now enjoys the gifts typical of bodies already
glorified.
John looks, and looks. The miracle granted to him by God enables him - against all
natural laws - to see Mary as She is now, while She rapidly ascends towards Heaven. She
is surrounded - but no longer helped to ascend - by the angels singing hosannas. And
John is enraptured by that vision of beauty. It is a vision that no pen of man, and no
human word or work of artist, will be ever able to describe or reproduce, because it is of
indescribable beauty...
And the God-Love31 grants a last supreme prodigy to His perfect loving disciple: to see
the meeting of the Most Holy Mother with Her Most Holy Son. Splendid and shining as
well, handsome with indescribable beauty also, Jesus descends rapidly from Heaven,
meets His Mother, and presses Her to His heart. And together, more shining than two
major planets, He returns with Her, whence He came32.
Hail Mary...
(His vision over, Johns joy now exceeds his sorrow. He thanks God for allowing him to
witness the re-uniting of Mary and Jesus. Then he gathers up the flower petals and other
remnants remaining on the little bed, and says to himself:)
They will serve to assist and comfort my brothers, for whom I have awaited in vain.
Sooner or later I will find them
(He puts them in the chest, closes the lid, and says:)
Now everything is also accomplished for me! Now I can go freely, wherever the Spirit
of God will lead me. I can go! And sow the Divine Word that the Master gave me, so
that I may give it to men. And teach Love. Teach them so that they may believe in Love,
and in its power... I, now that I no longer have the Master and the Mother to love on the
Earth, will go and spread love among the nations. Love will be my weapon and my
doctrine. And be means of it, I will defeat the demon and heathenism, and will conquer
many souls. I will thus continue the work of Jesus and Mary, Who were perfect love on
the Earth.
Hail Mary...
Glory be...
Oh my Jesus
descending from Heaven, and open to My spiritual sight - were coming down upon Me to
take My soul. People say that I would have rejoiced at being assisted, in that hour, by My
Son. But My sweet Jesus was indeed present with the Father, when the Love - that is, the
Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Eternal Trinity - kissed Me for the third time in My
life. It was a kiss so powerfully divine that My soul exhaled, becoming lost in
contemplation, like a drop of dew absorbed by the sun in the calyx of a lily. And I
ascended with My spirit, singing hosannas to the feet of the Three, Whom I had always
worshipped.
Hail Mary...
I was like a pearl in a setting of fire, assisted at first and then followed, by the
procession of the angelic spirits, who had come to assist Me in My eternal celestial birth.
I was expected by My Jesus - even before the threshold of Heaven - and on its threshold,
by My just earthly spouse, by the Kings and Patriarchs of My stock, and by the first
saints and martyrs. Then, at the right moment, I entered as Queen - after so much grief,
and after living so much humility, being the poor maid of God - into the kingdom of
infinite delight. And Heaven closed again on the joy of having Me, of having its Queen,
the only one Whose mortal flesh was acquainted with glorification, before the final
resurrection and the last judgement33.
Hail Mary...
(Notebooks 1943, pp. 587-9)
(In a separate dictation to Maria Valtorta, Mary says:)
My humility did not allow me to think of so much glory, reserved for me in
Heaven.
In my thought was the certainty that my human flesh, made holy by having borne
God, would not undergo corruption. For God is Life, and when He fills a being with
Himself, He is like an aroma, protecting (this being) from death. Not only had I been
fused with Him in a chaste and fertile embrace, but I had been pervaded, in the most
hidden recesses, by the origins of the Divinity which was concealed in my womb, and
which was intent on covering Himself with mortal flesh.
Hail Mary...
But I did not think that the goodness of the Eternal should have reserved, for his
Handmaid, to feel again - on my members - the touch of the hand of my Son, his
embrace, and his kiss. Nor to hear his voice again with my ears, to see his face with my
eyes, and to experience anew the joy of caressing Him. No, I did not think that this would
be granted to me at once, nor that I deserved it. It sufficed for me that these blessings
should be granted to my spirit, and that my happiness as a blessed one would already be
full.
Hail Mary...
But as a witness to his creative thought regarding man, God wanted me in Heaven
in soul and body. I am the certain witness to what God had conceived and willed for man.
He had conceived an innocent life, unaware of sin, and a placid passage from this life to
the complete Life. Like some-one crossing the threshold of a house to enter a royal
palace, the complete being would pass from the sun of the earthly paradise, to the Sun of
the heavenly Paradise, increasing the perfection of the person - in flesh and in spirit with the full Light, which is in the Heavens.
Hail Mary...
When taken up to the glory of Heaven, God the Father set Me before the Patriarchs, the
Saints, the Angels, and the Martyrs. And He said, This is the perfect work of the Creator,
which is what I created in my image and likeness. This is the result of a divine, creative
41
masterpiece, the wonder of the Universe, which sees enclosed in a single being the divine
in the immortal spirit. This is like God: spiritual, intelligent, and virtuous; and it is like
the animal: in the most perfect flesh, to which every other living being in the three realms
of Creation bends. This is the witness to my love for man, for whom I created the perfect
organism, and the blessed destiny of an eternal life in my King-dom.
Hail Mary...
(God the Father continues:) This is the witness to my Forgiveness for man, to
whom - by virtue of a three-fold love - I have granted rehabilitation in my sight. This is
the mystical touchstone. This is the link between God and man. This is She who takes
time back to the first days, and gives my divine eye the joy of contemplating Eve - whom
I created, as I created her - and now rendered even more beautiful. Because She is the
Mother of my Son, and of the Martyr of Forgiveness. From her Heart, which knew no
stain, I open the treasures of Heaven. And for her head, which knew no pride, I make my
Radiance into a crown. And I crown Her, for She is holy to Me, so that She will be your
Queen.
Hail Mary...
(Mary says:)
"Maria, there are no tears in Heaven. But (there is something which compensates for)
the joyful weeping the spirits would have had, if they had been granted to weep There
was a sparkling of lights, a col-our change of splendor into more vivid splendors, a
burning of fires of charity in a more brightly inflamed fire, and an unsurpassed,
indescribable sounding of harmonies. The voice of my Son joined itself to all these, in
praise for both God the Father, and for the Servant of God, eternally blessed.
Hail Mary...
(Notebooks 1944, pp. 315-6)
(Maria Valtorta describes how she was given, through the eyes of her spirit, a sublime
vision of Paradise:)
the unbearable splendour of the Holy Spirit,
the incomparable Light of God the Father,
the glorified Person of Jesus, and then
the heavenly beauty of Mary)
Mary was standing between the Father and the Son, with Her hands - Her gentle,
snow-white, small and very lovely hands - crossed over Her breast. Her face - a tender,
perfect, loving, and very delicate face - was slightly raised.
Filled with veneration, Mary was looking at the Father. She did not say a word. But
Her whole gaze was a voice of adoration, prayer, and song.
Filled with love, She then looked at Her Jesus. Every caress of Her soft eyes was
saying, "I love You!"
From time to time She would lift up Her face, and gaze even more, to seek out the
Love that was shining high above Her. And then its dazzling light became ignited. She
would receive the kiss of Love, the Spirit would flame forth more brightly, and Mary's
gaze would merge with His splendors.
Mary would then turn her glance back to the Father and the Son. It seemed that, having
been made the repository of Love, She was distributing it. (What a poor image I convey!
I shall state it better.) It seemed that the Spirit was choosing Her to be the one who,
gathering all Love into Herself, would then bear it to the Father and the Son, so that the
Three would join and kiss one another, becoming One. Oh, the joy of comprehending this
poem of love! And to see the mission of Mary, the Seat of Love!
Hail Mary...
(Notebooks 1943, p. 589)
42
o o 0 o o
Appendix
IMPRIMATUR BY BISHOP DANYLAK
Thirty-two years of polemics have subsided; the major issues bandied about by
various writers, for and against the authenticity of the writings of Maria Valtorta, have
been resolved. There are many questions that still await their resolution. Maria herself,
in truth and humility, could not ascribe to herself the principle authorship of the Poem
of the Man-God as it was known in the first English translations or the Gospel of
Jesus Christ as Dictated to Me as Maria requested her publishers to call this work.
Church authorities still insist that the publishers ascribe solely to Maria, the authorship,
not only of this work, but also the many other writings that issued from Marias pen
between the years 1943-1954.
And in a sense they are right, for the Church has always ascribed the human
authorship of the Sacred Scriptures of the Old and the New Covenants to the authors
whose names the different books bear, yet acknowledge the Bible as the work of the
Holy Spirit Himself. These, and so many other questions, will have to be addressed
when and if a cause for the beatification of this elect victim is presented to the Holy
See. This was the case with Padre Pio and with Don Orione of our century, and with
many saints of the earlier centuries.
Yet although the vituperatives have subsided, there are some who continue to have
problems that arose from the unsettled issues of the past.
The principal objections of the censors, that had placed The Poem of the Man-God on
the Index of Forbidden Books, were that the publishers of the first edition, purporting to
present private visions and revelations, had not submitted the work to prior
ecclesiastical censorship which is true. Further, they accused the book of
archaeological, geographical and biblical inaccuracies, of bad theology, of foppish
sentimentalism, etc., etc.
Two Servite theologians - Fr. Corrado Berti, who prepared a scholarly theological and
scriptural commentary to the second edition of the Poem, and Fr. Gabriel Roschini, a
noted Mariologist, and author of The Virgin Mary in the Writings of Maria Valtorta
attest to the orthodoxy of the Catholic faith, the factual accuracy of the biblical
geography and archaeology described in The Poem, and the profundity of theological
43
insight in these writings. I wish to include the authority of several other reputable
scholars, many of whom were personal friends and admirers of Maria Valtorta in her
lifetime. Archbishop Carinci, secretary for many years of the Congregation for Saints;
Msgr. Lattanzi, a renowned moral theologian in his time; Card. Augustine Bea, a noted
biblical scholar and former president of the Pontifical Biblical Commission; Prof.
Corsanego, consistorial advocate for the cause of saints; and many others. For an
extensive description of notables and their comments about Maria Valtorta and her
work, cf. the second Italian edition of The Poem of the Man-God, edited and annotated
by the late Fr. Corrado Berti, Servite and professor of theology. Dr. Emilio Pisani,
editor and publisher of the writings of Maria Valtorta, continuing the work of his late
father Michele, published a review of these writings until the present, in his study, pro
and contra Maria Valtorta.
I wish to add to these testimonies my own experiences in reading these lives of Christ
and His Blessed Mother. Though gifted herself with artistic and poetic sensibility,
Marias masterly treatment of the story - that develops with the conception of the
Blessed Virgin to St. Anne, Her birth, the Annunciation and birth of Christ, the public
life of Jesus, His teachings and miracles, through the events preceding the passion,
the passion itself, the glorious Resurrection and Ascension, the Descent of the Holy
Spirit, the early life of the Church until the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin
surpasses the genius of many of the great writers of world literature. Her presentation
of the cast of hundreds of characters - the profound insights into the inner life; the
psychology and emotions of Jesus as He responded to a multiple variety of situations;
Marias portrayal of the responsiveness of the apostles; the friends and foes of Jesus
transcends the capacities of even the most genial and gifted of writers. And in all of
this, she does not confuse persons, events, and places. Through her, the reader
enters into the very hearts of Jesus and His Mother. This work call it Poem or
Dictations of Jesus is not only faithful to the Gospel, but it is the Gospel of Christ
expanded. It is a gift of Christ for these, our days, when Jesus is maligned, denied,
spurned, persecuted in His Church, and in a world that is rapidly becoming
submerged in the apostasy of faith.
Listen to the testimony of the noted Mariologist, Fr. Roschini, who availed himself of
the writings of Valtorta for his course in Mariology in the 1970s at the Pontifical
Gregorian University. His course notes became the basis for his final and definitive
book on Mariology, The Virgin Mary in the Writings of Maria Valtorta. Fr. Roschini had
been initially very standoffish to the writings of Valtorta. He had a change of heart,
overcame his initial reserve, and discovered an immense treasure of insight into the
mystery of Mary. He comments in the introduction to this, his last book on Mary (pg. 21
of the English translation), as follows: "On January 6, 1960, the Osservatore Romano
published an article about Il Poema dellUomo Dio as well as a stern censure against
it. However, in the article it frankly admitted that we can find in this work lessons in
Marian theology which show a complete knowledge of the later studies by present-day
specialists on the matter These theological lessons are written in the very terms
which a professor of our day would use
And in a footnote, Fr. Roschini adds that these officials were not even aware of Pope
Pius XIIs declaration of February 26, 1948, during a special audience he had granted
to Fr. Berti and two witnesses Fr. Andrea M. Cecchin, Prior, and Fr. Romualdo
Migliorini - all three theologians. (Cf. Osservatore Romano, Feb. 27, 1948 with the
commendation: "Publish this work as it is. There is no need to give an opinion on
its origin, whether it be extraordinary or not.")
In conclusion, as a priest and bishop of the eastern Church, as I prayed the Divine
Office of the Byzantine Church, that has faithfully preserved the names and the early
Christian traditions of the protagonists of the early apostolic community and the
disciples of Christ, I was surprised to find them alive, as real living personalities 44
friends and disciples of Jesus from His infancy, His adolescence, and the mature
years of His public life in the life of Christ.
Maria had never studied scriptures, and the archaeology and geography of Palestine.
She did not peruse the Divine Office of the Roman, still less of the eastern, Church.
The Lord accepted the generous sacrifice of her cross, and of dying to herself, and He
gave to us, through her, this precious gift of the total Gospel, for this our day.
+ Roman Danylak, titular bishop of Nyssa. Easter 1999
7 PARTS
The Birth and Hidden Life of Mary and Jesus
Chapters 1-43
The first year of the Public Life of Jesus
Chapters 44-140
The second year of the Public Life of Jesus
Chapters 141-312
The third year of the Public Life of Jesus
Chapters 313-540
Preparation for the Passion of Jesus
Chapters 541-600
http://drbo.org/dnl/
Maria_Valtorta_Summa_Encyclopedia.pdf
45
With the 1991 publication of the 5th volume of The Poem of the Man-God,
Masterwork of the modern Italian mystic, Maria Valtorta [1897-1961], the English
translation is now complete and is rapidly being disseminated and acclaimed in the
western hemisphere, especially among the Laity. Many, indeed, who have read it
with an open mind and solid commitment, hail it as a singular gift of Divine Mercy
to modern man and the Church of our times. The Poem is a voluminous Life of
Christ and His Mother which Valtorta affirms was revealed to her in Visions given
her by Christ. It also contains random Commentaries on these Visions, dictated by
Christ or Mary. Essentially, then, it is the gospel, but considerably amplified,
"fleshed out" with all the details and personages that doubtless initially
accompanied the basic skeletal synopsis handed down to us in the New Testament.
SOME TESTIMONIALS:
Nicholas Pende :
The first to define Valtorta's work as a "masterwork" was the illustrious [medical] clinician,
[Dr.] Nicholas Pende, who wrote:
"...for me, it is a true masterwork both from the aspect of its style as from the beauty of
its language and form."
lingering then on one detail, [he says]:
"...What has aroused in me, a physician, the greatest admirationand amazement for the
expertise with which Valtorta describes a phenomenology which only a few consummate
physicians would know how to explainis the scene of the agony of Jesus on the cross...
Pity and the greatest emotion invade the Christian reader on reading this astonishing
page, with its truly medical style, of Maria Valtorta's manuscript."
Pende's statement forms part of the historical endorsements of 1952. In that year the Work was
not yet published, but was available in typewritten fascicles which learned and authoritative
persons read, later on recording their own impressions. These are integrally related in the book
Pro e contro Maria Valtorta. From those famous endorsements, let us take some other
passages:
Archbp. Alphonsus Carinci:
"...it seems impossible to me that a woman of a very ordinary theological culture, and
unprovided with any book useful to that end, had been able on her own to write with such
exactness pages so sublime." [Archbishop Alphonsus Carinci: then Secretary of the
Congregation of Rites, which was later called the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints]
Camillus Corsnego:
"...I have never found [such] an ensemble of science, of art, of piety and of adherence to
the traditional teachings of the Church as in the Work on the Gospels of Signora Maria
Valtorta." [Camillus Corsnego: then dean of the consistorial advocates, and professor at the
Pontifical Lateran University.]
George La Pira:
"...there are no theological improprieties, and it is a matter of very singular interest."
[George La Pira: university professor, deputy and mayor of Florence, now "Servant of God"].
Msgr. Hugo Lattanzi:
"...these are truly splendid pages both in thought and in form; descriptions of
psychological situations worthy of Shakespeare, dialogs conducted in a Socratic manner
worthy of Plato, and descriptions of nature and the environment worthy of the most
imaginative writer." [Msgr. Hugo Lattanzi: Professor of fundamental theology at the Lateran
Pontifical University].
Msgr. Angelo Mercati:
"...I well remember the very good impression that remained with me from the reading of
the hundreds of different pages communicated to me..." [Msgr. Angelo Mercati: Prefect of
the Vatican Secret Archive].
Msgr. Maurice Raffa:
"...I found therein incomparable riches...Wanting to express a judgment on its intrinsic
and aesthetic value, I point out that to write just one of the many volumes composing the
Work, it would need an Author (who today does not exist) who would be at once a great
poet, an able biblical scholar, a profound theologian, an expert in archeology and
topography, and a profound connoisseur of human psychology."
[Msgr. Maurice Raffa: Director of the International Center of Comparison and Synthesis]
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48