588. Jesus Enters into Jerusalem.
30th March 1947 (Palm Sunday).
Jesus says: « You will put here the vision: "From Bethany to Jerusalem" (dated 3rd March 1945). And now: look! »
Jesus embraces with His arm the shoulders of His Mother, Who has stood up when John and James of Alphaeus have reached Her to say to Her: « Your Son is coming », and then they have come back to join their companions who are proceeding slowly, talking, while Thomas and Andrew have rushed towards Bethphage to look for the donkey and the colt and take them to Jesus.
In the meantime Jesus is speaking to the women. « Here we are near the city. I advise you to go. And go without being afraid. Enter the town before I do. All the shepherds and the most faithful disciples are near En Rogel. They have been told to escort and protect you. »
« The fact is that… We have spoken to Aser of Nazareth and Abel of Bethlehem in Galilee and also to Solomon. They had come as far as here to watch for Your arrival. The crowd is preparing a great celebration. And we wanted to see… See how the tops of the olivetrees are shaken? It is not the wind that is shaking them thus. But it is the people who are gathering branches to spread them on the road and to protect You from the sun. And over there?! Look over there, they are stripping the palm-trees of their fan-shaped leaves. They look like clusters and they are men who have climbed up the trunks to gather more and more… And, on the slopes, You can see children bending to pick flowers. And the women certainly strip gardens of corollas and scented herbs to strew Your way with flowers. We wanted to see… and imitate the gesture of Mary of Lazarus, who picked up all the flowers pressed by Your feet when You went into Lazarus' gardens » says imploringly Mary of Clopas on behalf of them all.
Jesus caresses the cheek of His old relative, who looks like a little girl anxious to see a show, and He says to her: « You would not be able to see anything among the large crowd. Go on, to Lazarus I house, the one whose keeper is Matthias. I shall be passing there and you will see Me from on high. »
« Son… and are You going all alone? Can I not be near You? » asks Mary, raising Her very sad face and staring with Her sky-blue eyes at Her meek Son.
« I would beg You to remain hidden. Like a dove in the cleft of a rock. Rather than Your presence, My beloved Mother, I need Your prayer! »
« If so, Son, we will all pray for You. »
« Yes. And after you have seen Him pass by, you will come with me to my mansion in Zion. And I will send servants to the Temple, with instructions to follow the Master all the time, so that they may bring us His orders and His news », says Mary of Lazarus resolutely, always quick in realising what is the best thing to do and to do it without delay.
« You are right, sister. Although it grieves me not to follow Him, I understand that it is a just order. In any case Lazarus told us not to contradict the Master in anything, and to obey Him even in the least matters. And we will do that. »
« Go, then. See? The roads are getting busy. The apostles are about to join Me. Go. Peace be with you. I will make you come when I think it is a suitable moment. Goodbye, Mother. Peace to you. God is with us. » He kisses Her and dismisses Her. And the obedient women disciples go away quickly.
The ten apostles join Jesus. « Have You sent them ahead? »
« Yes, I have. They will see My entry from a house. »
« From which house? » asks Judas of Kerioth.
« Eh! the friendly houses are so many now! » says Philip.
« Not from Annaleah's? » says the Iscariot insisting.
Jesus replies in the negative and He sets out towards Bethphage, which is not far.
He is near the village when the two apostles, who had been sent to get the donkey and the colt, come back. They shout: « We found what You told us and we would have brought the animals. But the owner wanted to curry them and adorn them with the best trappings to honour You. And the disciples, with those who have spent the night in the streets of Bethany to honour You, wish to have the honour of bringing them to You, and we agreed. We thought that their love deserved a reward. »
« You did the right thing. Let us go on in the meantime. »
« Are there many disciples? » asks Bartholomew.
« Oh! a great crowd. It is impossible to pass along the streets in Bethphage. That is why I told Isaac to take the donkey to Cleanthes, the cheese-monger » replies Thomas.
« You acted rightly. Let us go as far as that rising of the hill, and we shall wait a little in the shade of those trees. »
They go to the place pointed out by Jesus.
« But we are going farther away! You are going beyond Bethphage passing round the back! » exclaims the Iscariot.
« And if I want to do so, who can forbid Me? Am I perhaps already a prisoner and not allowed to go where I want? Or is it urgent that I should be so, and is anybody afraid that I may avoid being captured? And if I should decide to go away along safer routes, is there anybody who could prevent Me from doing so? » Jesus darts a glance at the Traitor, who dare no longer open his mouth and shrugs his shoulders, as if to say: « Do as You like. »
They go, in fact, round the back of the little village, I should say a suburb of the town, as its western side is really not far from the town, being part of the slopes of the Mount of Olives, which surrounds the eastern side of Jerusalem. Farther down, between the slopes and the town, the Kidron is shining in the April sunshine.
Jesus sits down in the green silent place and concentrates on His thoughts. He then stands up and goes towards the rising, stopping just at its edge.
Jesus says: « You will put here the vision of 31st July 1944: "Jesus weeps over Jerusalem", from the sentence that I gave you as the beginning of the vision. » He then resumes showing me the phases of His triumphal entry.
30th July 1944.
I do not know how I shall manage to write because I am suffering so much from heart trouble that I can hardly sit up. But it cannot be helped. I must write what I see.
The Gospel of today, the ninth Sunday after Pentecost, is illustrated to me.
Jesus Weeps Over Jerusalem James Tissot
From a hill near Jerusalem Jesus looks at the town stretched at His feet. It is not a very high hill. At most it is like the large square of S. Miniato on the mountain, at Florence; but it is sufficient for the eye to dominate the extent of houses and streets, that go up and down the small ground elevations forming Jerusalem. If one refers to the lowest level of the town, this hill is certainly much higher than Calvary, but it is closer to the walls than the latter. It really begins just outside the walls and rises steeply on their side, whereas on the other side it descends gently towards a very green country that stretches eastwards. At least I think it is eastwards, if I am judging rightly according to sunlight.
Jesus and His apostles are sitting under a group of trees, in the shade. They are resting after a long walk. Then Jesus stands up, He leaves the clearing where they were sitting and He goes towards the hillock and stops just at its edge. His tall person stands out clearly in the empty space around Him. He looks even taller as He stands upright, all alone. His arms are folded across His chest, on His blue mantle, and He looks around very seriously.
The apostles watch Him. But they leave Him alone, they neither move nor speak. They must think that He has moved aside to pray.
But Jesus is not praying. After looking for a long time at the town, at each district, at each hillock, at each detail, at times letting His eyes dwell upon this or that point, at times watching less insistently, Jesus begins to weep without sobbing or making any noise. Tears fill His eyes, then gush forth and stream down His cheeks and fall… Silent very sad tears. The tears of a man who knows that he must weep, all alone, without hoping to be consoled or understood by anybody. Tears brought about by grief that cannot be cancelled and must be suffered absolutely.
Because of his position John's brother is the first to notice those tears and he tells the others, who look at one another and are seized with astonishment.
« None of us has done anything wrong » says one, and another: « The crowds did not insult us either. Among them nobody was hostile to Him ». « Why is He weeping, then? » asks the oldest of them all.
Peter and John stand up together and they approach the Master. They think that the only thing to be done is to make Him feel that they love Him and ask Him what the matter is with Him. « Master, are You weeping? » asks John laying his fair-haired head on the shoulder of Jesus, Who is taller than he is by a neck and a head. And Peter, laying his hand round Jesus' waist, almost embracing Him to draw Him to himself, says to Him: « What is grieving You, Jesus? Tell us who love You. »
Jesus rests His cheek on John's fair-haired head and opening out His arms, He passes His arm round Peter's shoulder. The three of them are thus embraced to one another in such a loving posture. But tears continue to drop.
John feels them run down through his hair and he asks once again: « Why are You weeping, Master? Are we perhaps the cause of Your sorrow? »
The other apostles have gathered round the loving group and are anxiously awaiting a reply.
« No » says Jesus. « Your are not. You are My friends and friendship, when it is sincere, is a balm and a smile, never tears. I would like you to remain My friends for ever. Even now that we shall enter into the corruption, that ferments and contaminates those who are not resolutely willing to remain honest. »
« Where are we going, Master? Are we not going to Jerusalem? The crowds have already greeted You joyfully. Do You want to disappoint them? Are we going to Samaria to work some miracle? Just now that Passover is close at hand? » The questions are asked by several of the apostles at the same time.
Jesus raises His hands imposing silence and then with His right one He points to the town. A wide gesture like that of a man sowing seeds ahead of himself. And He says: « That is the Corruption. We are going into Jerusalem. We are going there. And only the Most High knows how I would like to sanctify the town taking there the Holiness that comes from Heaven. I would like to resanctify it, as it should be the Holy City. But I shall not be able to do anything for it. It is corrupt, and will remain corrupt. And the streams of holiness that gush from the living Temple, and will gush even more in the next few days to the extent of leaving it lifeless, will not be sufficient to redeem it. Samaria and the heathen world will come to the Holy One. The temples of the true God will be erected on the false temples. The hearts of the Gentiles will worship the Christ. But this people, this town will always be hostile to Him, and their hatred will lead them to the greatest sin. That must happen. But woe to those who will be the instruments of that crime. Woe!… » Jesus stares at Judas, who is almost in front of Him.
« That will never happen to us. We are Your apostles and we believe in You, and we are ready to die for You. » Judas lies shamelessly and meets Jesus' eye without embarrassment. The others join in protesting.
Jesus replies to all of them, avoiding to reply to Judas directly.
« Would to Heaven that you may be so. But you are still very weak, and temptation may make you like those who hate Me. Pray fervently and watch diligently over yourselves. Satan is aware that he is about to be defeated and he wants to avenge himself by tearing you away from Me. Satan is around us all. He is around Me to prevent Me from doing the will of My Father and from fulfilling My mission. And he is around you to make you his servants. Be vigilant. Within those walls Satan will take those who are not strong. He will take him whose curse will be the fact that he was elected, because he made use of his election for a human purpose. I chose you for the Kingdom of Heaven, not for that of the world. Bear that in mind. And you, o city, that want your ruin and over which I am shedding tears, be aware that your Christ is praying for your redemption. Oh! if at least in this hour still left to you, you came to Him Who would be your peace! If in this hour you understood the Love passing through you and you divested yourself of the hatred that makes you blind and insane, and cruel against yourself and your welfare! But the day will come when you will remember this hour! But it will be too late to weep and repent! The Love will have passed and disappeared from your streets, and the Hatred that you preferred will remain. And Hatred will be on you and on your children. Because one has what one wanted, and hatred is paid with hatred. And then it will not be the hatred of the strong against the defenceless, but it will be hatred against hatred, thus war and death. Surrounded by trenches and armed men, you will languish before being destroyed, and you will see your children killed by weapons and famine, and the survivors taken prisoners and derided, and you will ask for mercy, but will never find it, because you refused to acknowledge your Salvation. I am weeping, My friends, because I have the heart of a man, and the ruin of My fatherland makes Me shed tears. But it is just that this takes place because within those walls corruption exceeds all limits and draws the punishment of God. Woe betide the citizens who bring about the ruin of their fatherland! Woe betide the leaders who are the main cause of it! Woe betide those who should be saints to guide the others to be honest and instead they desecrate the House of their ministry and themselves! Come. My action will be of no avail. But let us make the Light shine once again in the Darkness! »
And Jesus goes down followed by His apostles. He walks fast along the road with a serious countenance, I would say, almost looking sullen. He speaks no more. He goes into a little house at the foot of the hill, and I see nothing else.
[30th March 1947]
Jesus has hardly had time to enter into the house blessing its inhabitants, when the joyful sound of harness-bells and jubilant voices are heard. And immediately afterwards the lean wan face of Isaac appears in the opening of the door, and the faithful shepherd enters and prostrates himself before his Lord Jesus.
Many faces are crowding in the frame of the wide-open door, and many more can be seen behind them… They push and throng, wishing to come forward… Some women shout, some of the children cry, caught as they are in the crowd, while the others shout greetings and joyful exclamations: « This is a happy day which brings You back to us! Peace to You, Lord! We welcome You, Master, as You have come back to reward our loyalty. »
Jesus stands up and makes a gesture meaning that He is going to speak. Everybody becomes silent and Jesus' voice is heard clearly. « Peace to you! Do not press together. We shall now go up to the Temple. I have come to stay with you. Peace! Peace! Do not hurt yourselves. Make way, My beloved friends! Let Me come out and follow Me, because we shall enter into the Holy City together. »
Willy-nilly the people obey, and they open out a little so that Jesus can come out and mount the little donkey. In fact Jesus points to the little colt, which had never been ridden before, as His mount, and then some rich pilgrims, who elbow their way through the crowd, lay their sumptuous mantles on its back, and one man kneels down with one knee on the ground and the other placed as a step for the Lord, Who sits on the back of the colt. And the journey begins with Peter walking on one side of the Master and Isaac on the other, holding the reins of the unbroken animal, which proceeds calmly, as if it were accustomed to that task, without becoming restive or being frightened by the flowers that, thrown as they are towards Jesus, often strike the eyes or the soft muzzle of the little colt, that is not even scared by the branches of olive-trees and palm leaves shaken in front of and around it, or are thrown on the ground to form a carpet with the flowers. It is not even frightened by the shouts of « Hosanna, Son of David! », that are becoming louder and louder as the crowd becomes larger and larger with the arrival of newcomers.
It is not easy to pass through Bethphage, along its narrow twisted streets, and mothers are compelled to take their children in their arms, and men have to protect their women from being pushed too violently, and some fathers carry their little sons astride their shoulders, so that they are above the crowd, while the shrill voices of the children sound like the bleatings of lambs or the screeching of swallows, while with their little hands they throw the flowers and leaves of olive-trees, offered to them by their mothers, as well as kisses, to mild Jesus…
After leaving the narrow passage of the little suburb, the procession stretches out in an orderly manner, and many volunteers go ahead leading the way and keeping it clear, and others follow them strewing the ground with branches. And when a man throws his mantle on the road as a carpet, hundreds of people imitate him. Thus the central part of the road is a multicoloured strip of garments spread on the ground and once Jesus passes by, they are picked up and carried ahead with many more, while flowers, branches and palm-leaves are waved and thrown, and louder cries are uttered around and in honour of the King of Israel, of the Son of David and His Kingdom!
The soldiers on duty at the gate come out to see what is happening. But it is not a sedition and they move to one side, leaning on their lances, and looking amazed or ironical they watch the strange procession of this King Who is riding the colt of a donkey, and is as handsome as a god, as humble as the poorest of men, meek, blessing… surrounded by women and children and by disarmed men shouting: « Peace! Peace! », of this King Who, before entering the town, stops for a moment near the sepulchres of the lepers at Hinnom and Siloam (I think I am mentioning the correct names of these places, where I have seen lepers being cured miraculously on other occasions) and pressing on the only stirrup in which His foot is resting, as He is sitting side-saddle on the donkey, but not astride it, He stands up, stretches out His arms, shouting in the direction of those dreadful slopes (where frightened faces and bodies appear, looking towards Jesus, and they utter the plaintive cry of lepers: « We are infected! » to send away some imprudent people who, in order to see Jesus better, would climb even the contaminated and infected terraces): « Let those who have faith in Me invoke My Name and receive health from it! » and setting out again He blesses them and He says to Judas: « You will buy food for the lepers and take it to them with Simon before it gets dark. »
When the procession enters under the vault of the Siloam Gate and then, like a torrent, pours into the town through the Ophel suburb - where every terrace has become a little airy square crowded with people singing hosannas, throwing flowers and pouring perfumes in the street, trying to throw them on the Master, and the air is filled with the scent of flowers crushed under the feet of the crowds and with essences that spread in the air before falling among the dust of the street - the cheers of the crowd seem -to increase and become louder, as if each person shouted in a bugle-horn, because the many archivolts, of which Jerusalem is full, amplify them with continuous echoes.
I can hear them shout, and I think they mean what the Evangelists say: « Shalem, Shalem melchil! » (or malchit: I am trying to give the sound of the words, but it is difficult, because they have aspirations which we do not have). A continuous howl, like the roar of a stormy sea, in which the loud noise of a billow pounding on beaches and cliffs has not yet dropped, when another breaker collects it and raises it with a fresh roar, without ever stopping. I am deafened by it!
Perfumes, scents, shouts, waving of branches and garments, colours, cries… It is a bewildering scene.
I see the people in the crowd getting mixed up continuously, and known faces appear and disappear: all the disciples from all the places in Palestine, all the followers… I see Jairus for a moment, and Jaia, the youth from Pella (I think), who was blind like his mother and was cured by Jesus, I see Joachim from Bozrah and the peasant from the plain of Sharon with his brothers, I see lonely old Matthias from a place near the Jordan, on the eastern bank, where Jesus took shelter when the place was all flooded, I see Zacchaeus with his converted friends, I see old John from Nob with almost all the citizens, I see the husband of Sarah from Juttah… But who can cope with faces and names, if it is a kaleidoscope of known and unknown faces, seen several times or only once?… Now there is the face of the little shepherd brought from Enon. And, near him, is the disciple from Korazim who did not bury his father to follow Jesus; and close to him, for a moment, the father and mother of Benjamin from Capernaum with their son, who almost falls under the hooves of the little donkey when he throws himself forward to receive a caress from Jesus.
And - unfortunately - there are faces of Pharisees and scribes, livid with rage because of this triumph, and they overbearingly elbow their way through the circle of love that is pressing round Jesus and they shout to Him: « Make these mad people keep quiet! Make them reason! Hosannas are to be sung to God only. Tell them to be quiet! »
And Jesus replies to them kindly: « Even if I told them to be silent and they obeyed Me, the stones would extol the wonders of the Word of God. »
In fact the people - in addition to shouting: « Hosanna, hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He Who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna to Him and to His Kingdom! God is with us! The Immanuel has come. The Kingdom of the Christ of the Lord has come! Hosanna! Hosanna from the Earth to the highest Heaven! Peace! Peace, my King! Peace and blessings to You, holy King! Peace and glory in Heaven and on the Earth! Glory to God for His Christ! Peace to the men who know how to welcome Him. Peace on Earth to men of good will and glory in the highest Heaven, because the hour of the Lord has come » (and this last cry is uttered by the whole group of the shepherds who are repeating the Christmas song) - in addition to these uninterrupted cries, the people of Palestine inform the pilgrims from the Diaspora of the miracles they have seen, and to those who do not know what is happening, because they are strangers passing by chance through the town and ask: « But who is He? What is happening? » they reply: « He is Jesus! Jesus, the Master from Nazareth in Galilee! The Prophet! The Messiah of the Lord! The Promised, the Holy Messiah! »
From a house, which has just been left behind as in so much confusion the procession is moving very slowly, comes out a group of strong young men carrying above their heads copper braziers full of charcoal and incense, which burn spreading clouds of scented smoke. Their gesture is well liked, and many run ahead or return to their houses, to get fire and scented resins to bum and thus pay homage to the Christ.
Annaleah's house appears. The terrace is decked with vines the new leaves of which are quivering in the mild April wind, and along the street side there is a full row of girls dressed in white and wearing white veils, in the middle of them there is Annaleah, with baskets of plucked petals of roses and lilies of the valley, that are already flying about in the air.
« The virgins of Israel are greeting You, Lord! » says John, who has pushed through the crowd and is now beside Jesus, drawing His attention to the garland of purity, which is leaning out of the parapet smiling and strewing the street with petals as red as blood and with lilies of the valley as white as pearls.
Jesus draws rein for a moment and stops the colt. He looks up and raises His hand to bless that virginity in love with Him to the extent of forgoing all other earthly love.
And Annaleah leaning forward shouts: « I have seen Your triumph, my Lord! Take my life for Your universal glorification! » and with a very loud cry, as Jesus passes close to her house and proceeds, she greets Him: « Jesus! »
And another but different cry exceeds the clamour of the crowds. But although the people hear it, they do not stop. It is a torrent of enthusiasm, a torrent of delirious people that cannot stop. And while the last waves of this torrent are still outside the gate, the first ones are already beginning to climb the slopes leading to the Temple.
« Your Mother! » shouts Peter, pointing at a house almost at the corner of a street that leads up to the Moriah and along which the procession begins to pass. And Jesus looks up to smile at His Mother, Who is up there among the faithful women.
The obstacle of a large caravan stops the procession a few metres after it has passed the house. And while Jesus stops with the others, caressing the children that mothers hold up to Him, a man rushes towards Him, elbowing his way through the crowd and shouting: « Let me pass! A woman has just died. A young girl. All of a sudden. Her mother is invoking the Master. Let me pass! He already saved her once! »
The people make room and the man runs towards Jesus and says: « Master, Eliza's daughter is dead. She greeted You with that cry, then she bent backwards saying: "I am happy" and she breathed her last. Her heart was overwhelmed by the great joy in seeing Your triumph. Her mother saw me on the terrace of the house next to hers and she sent for me. Come, Master! »
« Dead! Annaleah dead! Was she not healthy, blooming and happy up to yesterday? » The apostles and the shepherds throng together excitedly. Everybody saw her yesterday in perfect good health. Only a little while ago they saw her rosy and smiling… They cannot understand such a misfortune… They ask questions, they inquire about details…
« I don't know. You have all heard her words. She spoke in a loud voice, sure of herself. Then I saw her lean backwards, and she was whiter then her dress and I heard her mother shout… I know nothing else. »
« Do not be excited. She is not dead. A flower fell and the angels of God picked it up to take it to Abraham's bosom. The lily of the Earth will soon open happily in Paradise, ignoring the horror of the world for ever. Man, tell Eliza not to weep over the lot of her daughter. Tell her that she was granted a great grace by God, and that in six days' time she will understand what grace God granted her daughter. Do not weep. Let no one weep. Her triumph is even greater than Mine, because the angels are escorting the virgin to lead her to the peace of the just. And it is an eternal triumph that will increase in degree without ever knowing failure. I solemnly tell you that you have reason to weep over yourselves, not over Annaleah. Let us go. » And He repeats to the apostles and to those around Him: « A flower has fallen. It lay down in peace and the angels picked it up. Blessed is the girl pure in flesh and heart, because she will soon see God. »
« But how did it happen, what did she die of, Lord? » asks Peter who cannot believe it.
« Of love. Of ecstasy. Of infinite joy. A happy death! »
Those who are far ahead are unaware, those who are far behind are also unaware. So the hosannas continue even if here, around Jesus, people have become pensively silent.
It is John who breaks the silence saying: « Oh! I should like to have the same lot before the future hours! »
« I, too » says Isaac. « I should like to see the face of the girl who died of love for You… »
« I beg you to sacrifice your wishes to Me. I need you near Me… »
« We will not leave You, Lord. But is there no consolation for that mother? » asks Nathanael.
« I will see to that… »
They are at the gates of the enclosure of the Temple. Jesus dismounts from the little donkey that is taken into custody by a man from Bethphage.
It is necessary to bear in mind that Jesus did not stop at the first gate of the Temple, but He went round the enclosure, and He stopped only at the northern side, near the Antonia. That is where He dismounted and went into the Temple, as if He wished to let people see that He was not hiding from the ruling powers, feeling that He had always behaved in an innocent way.
The first court of the Temple shows the usual uproar of moneychangers and vendors of doves, sparrows and lambs, with the only difference that the vendors have been left alone, because everybody has gone to see Jesus. And Jesus enters, solemn in His purple garment, and He looks around at the market and at a group of Pharisees and scribes, who are watching Him from a porch.
His eyes are flashing with anger. He rushes to the centre of the court. An unexpected leap that looks like a flight. The flight of a flame, because His garment is as bright as a flame in the sunshine flooding the court. And in His voice as powerful as thunder He says: « Away from the house of My Father! This is no place for usury or markets. It is written: "My house will be called the house of prayer". So why have you turned into a robbers' den this house, in which the Name of the Lord is invoked? Go away! Leave My House clean. That it may not happen to you, that instead of using ropes, I may strike you with the thunderbolts of heavenly wrath. Go away! Get out, you thieves, swindlers, lewd people, murderers, impious persons, idolaters of the worst idolatry, that of one's proud ego, corrupters and liars. Out! Get out! Or the Most High God, I warn you, will sweep away this place for good and will take vengeance upon all the people. » He does not repeat the lashing of the last time, but seeing that the merchants and money-changers are slow in obeying, He goes to the nearest bench and turns it over spreading scales and money on the ground.
The vendors and money-changers make haste and carry out Jesus' order, after witnessing the first example. And Jesus shouts after them: « And how many times shall I have to say that this must not be a place of filth, but a place of prayer? » And He looks at those of the Temple who, obeying the orders of the Pontiff, do not make any gesture of reprisal.
After cleansing the court, Jesus goes towards the porches where blind, paralytic, mute, crippled and other sick people are gathered and are invoking Him at the top of their voices.
« What do you want Me to do for you? »
« My sight, Lord! My limbs! That my son may speak! That my wife may recover her health. We believe in You, Son of God! »
« May God hear you. Rise and sing hosannas to the Lord! »
He does not cure the many sick people one by one. But He makes a wide gesture with His hand, and grace and health descend from it upon the poor wretches, who stand up completely cured with cries of joy that mingle with those of the many children, who are pressing against Him repeating: « Glory, glory to the Son of David! Hosanna to Jesus of Nazareth, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords! »
Some Pharisees, with feigned deference, shout to Him: « Master, do You hear them? These children are saying what is not to be said. Reproach them! That they may keep quiet! »
« Why? The king prophet, the king of My stock, did he not say: "You made the perfect praise flow from the mouths of children and sucklings to confuse Your enemies"? Have you not read these words of the psalmist? Let children sing My praises. They are prompted to sing them by their angels, who see My Father incessantly and are aware of His secrets, which they suggest to these innocents. And now let Me go and pray the Lord » and, passing in front of the people, He goes into the court of Israel to pray…
Later, coming out through another gate, going along the Sheep Pool, He leaves the town and goes back to the hills of the Mount of Olives.
The apostles are full of enthusiasm… The triumph has given them confidence, they have completely forgotten all the terror that the words of the Master had aroused in them… They are speaking of everything… They are dying to have news of Annaleah. With difficulty Jesus prevents them from going, assuring them that He will provide and He knows how to do so… They turn a deaf ear to every divine advice… They are truly men, and a cry of hosanna makes them forget everything…
Jesus speaks to Mary of Magdala's servants, who had joined Him at the Temple, and then He dismisses them…
« And where are we going now? » asks Philip.
« To Mark of Jonas' house? » says John.
« No. To the field of the Galileans. Perhaps My brothers have come and I should like to greet them » says Jesus.
« You will be able to do that tomorrow » Thaddeus points out to Him.
« It is better to do things while they can be done. Let us go to the Galileans. They will be pleased to see us. You will have news of your families. I shall see the children… »
« And what about this evening? Where shall we sleep? In town? Where? Where Your Mother is? Or at Johanna's? » asks Judas Iscariot.
« I do not know. Certainly not in town. Perhaps under some Galilean tent again… »
« But why? »
« Because I am the Galilean and I love My Fatherland. Let us go. »
They set out again, going up towards the field of the Galileans, which is on the Mount of Olives towards Bethany, and is all covered with white tents shining in the pleasant April sun.
[30th July 1944]
« The scene described by Luke seems incoherent, almost illogical. I feel sorry for the misfortunes of a guilty town, but I do not feel sorry for the habits of that town. No. I am not able, I cannot feel sorry for them, because it is just those habits that bring about their misfortunes; and seeing them makes My sorrow deeper. My anger with the desecrators of the Temple is the logical consequence of My meditation on the forthcoming misfortunes of Jerusalem.
It is always the profanation of the cult of God, of the Law of God that provokes the punishments of Heaven. By turning the House of God into a robbers' den, those worthless priests and those worthless believers (only such by name) were drawing malediction and death on all the people. It is useless to give this or that name to the misfortunes that make a people suffer. Look for the right name in this: "Punishment for living like brutes". God withdraws and Evil advances. That is the result of a national way of living undeserving to be named Christian.
As in the past, also now, in the short period of this century, I have not ceased shaking and warning people by means of prodigies. But as in the past, I did nothing but draw mockery, indifference and hatred upon Myself and My means. But individuals and nations ought to bear in mind that they weep in vain, when beforehand they did not want to acknowledge their salvation. In vain they invoke Me when, while I was with them, they drove Me away with a sacrilegious war that starting from individual consciences, devoted to Evil, spread throughout the Nation. Fatherlands are not so much saved with weapons as they are by means of a form of life that may attract protection from Heaven.
Rest, little John. And make sure you are always faithful to your election. Go in peace. »
How tired I am! I am really exhausted…
[30th March 1947]
Jesus says: « My patient secretary, put here the vision: "The evening of Palm Sunday" (4th March 1945), and may My peace be with you. »
589. The Evening of Palm Sunday.
4th March 1945.
Jesus is with His apostles in the peace of the Garden of the Mount of Olives. It is evening. A tepid evening with a full moon. They are sitting on the natural seats that are the terraces of the olive-grove, on the first ones, which face the glade situated at the beginning of Gethsemane. The Kidron is gurgling among its stones and seems to be talking to itself. One can hear only the song of an odd nightingale or feel the breath of the breeze. Nothing else.
Jesus is speaking.
« After the triumph of this morning your spirits are quite different. What shall I say? That your minds are relieved? Oh! yes! From a human point of view they are relieved. You entered the town trembling because of My words. Each of you seemed to fear that hired ruffians on the other side of the walls were ready to attack him and take him prisoner.
In every man there is another man who reveals himself in the most dangerous hours. There is the hero, who in the hours of greater danger emerges from the meek type of man that the world had always known him to be and had considered unimportant, the hero who faces a struggle saying: "Here I am", who says to the enemy, to an overbearing opponent: "Compete with me". And there is the saint who, while the others run away, struck with terror before wild people looking for victims, says: "Take me as a hostage and for your sacrifice. I will pay on behalf of everybody". And there is the cynic who avails himself of the general misfortune and laughs over the bodies of the victims. There is the traitor, who has a courage of his own, that of evil. The traitor who is the amalgamation of the cynic with the coward, and that is also a category that reveals itself in dangerous hours. Because they cynically take advantage of a misfortune and in a cowardly way they join the stronger party, daring to face the scorn of enemies and the curses of the forlorn, provided they make a profit. Lastly there is the most widespread type, the coward who in the dangerous hour can but repent of having made known that he belonged to a party and to a man, now struck with anathema, and runs away… Such a coward is not so criminal as the cynic or so revolting as the traitor. But he always shows the imperfection of his spiritual structure. You… are such. Do not say that you are not. I can read consciences.
This morning you were thinking among yourselves: "What will happen to us? Are we going to our death as well?" And your lower part was moaning: "When ever!… " Yes. But have I ever deceived you? With My first words I spoke to you of persecutions and death. And when one of you, through excess of admiration, wanted to see Me and introduce Me as a king, as one of the poor kings of the Earth, always a poor king even if the king and restorer of the kingdom of Israel, I immediately corrected the error and I said: "I am king of the spirit. I offer hardships, sacrifices, sorrows. I have nothing else. I have nothing else here on the Earth. But after My death and your death in My faith, I will give you an eternal Kingdom, the Kingdom of Heaven". Did I perhaps say something different to you? No. You say I did not.
And then you also said: "This is all we want: we want to be with You, and to be treated, to suffer like You, for You". Yes. That is what you said. And you were sincere. Because you were reasoning like children, like thoughtless children. You thought that it was easy for you to follow Me, and you were so full of the treble sensuality that you could not admit that what I was mentioning to you was true. You thought: "He is the Son of God. He is saying that to test our love. No man will be able to strike Him. Since He works miracles, He will be able to work a great one for Himself!" And each of you would add: "I cannot believe that He may be betrayed, captured, killed". Your human faith in My power was so strong that you went to the extent of not having faith in My words, the true, spiritual, holy and sanctifying Faith.
"He Who works miracles will certainly work one in His own favour!" you were saying. I will work not one, but many more. And two of them will be such as no mind of man can possibly imagine. They will be such as only the believers in the Lord can acknowledge. All other people, to the end of time, will say: "Impossible!" And even after My death I shall be the object of contradiction for many.
On a mild spring morning from a mountain I announced the various beatitudes. There is still another one: "Blessed are those who can believe without seeing". Going through Palestine I have already said: "Blessed are those who listen to the word of God and keep it", and also: "Blessed are those who do the will of God" and I said many more, because in the house of My Father many are the joys awaiting saints. But there is also this one. Oh! Blessed are those who will believe without seeing with the eyes of their bodies! They will be so holy that, although on the Earth, they already see God, the God hidden in the Mystery of love.
But after being with Me for three years, you have not yet arrived at that faith. And you believe only what you see. So, as from this morning, after the triumph, you are saying: "It is just what we said. He is triumphing. And we with Him". And, like birds that are fledging again after their feathers have been torn off by some cruel person, you are flying off, beside yourselves with joy, sure of yourselves, free from the constraints that My words had put in your hearts. Are you more relieved also in your spirits? No, your spirits are even less relieved. Because you are even less prepared for the impending hour. You have drunk the hosannas like a strong agreeable wine. And you are inebriated with it. Is an inebriated man ever strong? The little hand of a child is sufficient to make him stagger and fall. That is what you are like. And the sight of hired ruffians will be enough to make you run away like timid gazelles, which see the sharp muzzle of a jackal appear near the rock of a mountain and, as fast as the wind, they scatter through the solitude of the desert.
Oh! make sure you do not die of dreadful thirst in that burning arena, which is the world without God! My dear friends, do not say what Isaiah says referring to this false and dangerous state of your spirits. Do not say: "He speaks of nothing but conspiracies. But there is nothing to fear, nothing to be afraid of. We must not be afraid of what He prophesies to us. Israel loves Him. And we have seen that". How often the delicate bare foot of a little boy treads on the grass of a flowery meadow, picking flowers to take them to his mother, and he thinks that he will find only stems and flowers, and instead he lays his heel on the head of a snake, and is bitten by it and dies! The flowers were concealing the snake. Also this morning… that happened also this morning! I am the Condemned man crowned with roses. Roses!… How long do roses last? What is left of them once their corollas shed their snow-white scented petals? Thorns.
I - Isaiah said so - shall be for you, and with you I say that I shall be the sanctuary for the world, but also the stumbling-stone, the chief culprit, the snare and ruin for Israel and the Earth. I will sanctify those who have good will and I will overthrow and crush those who have an evil will. The angels do not speak false words or words that last a short time. They come from God, Who is Truth and is Eternal, and what they say is the truth and their words are immutable. They said: "Peace to men of good will". Then, o Earth, Your Saviour was born. Now your Redeemer is going to His death. But to have peace from God, that is, sanctification and glory, it is necessary to have "good will". Useless is My birth, useless My death for those who do not have that good will. My crying and My deathrattle,
My first step and the last one, the wound of My circumcision and that of My consummation, will have been of no avail if in you, if in men, there is not the good will to redeem and sanctify yourselves. And I say to you: "A very large number of people will stumble against Me, whilst I am placed as a supporting pillar, and not as a snare for man, and they will fall because, being inebriated with pride, lust and avarice, they will be entrapped in the net of their own sins, caught and handed over to Satan. Keep these words in your hearts and seal them for future disciples.
Let us go. The Stone is rising. Another step forward. Upon the mountain. It must shine on the summit because He is the Sun, the Light, the East. And the Sun shines on summits. It must be on the mountain, because the true Temple is to be seen from all over the world. And I am building it by Myself with the living Stone of My sacrificed Body. I will cement its parts with the lime made with sweat and blood. And I shall be on My throne clothed in bright purple, wearing a new crown, and those who are far away will come to Me, they will work in My Temple, around it. I am the base and the summit. But all around, the abode will expand wider and wider. And I will shape My stones and form My handicraftsman Myself, As I was worked on with a chisel by My Father, by Love, by man and by Hatred, so I will work on them. After the wickedness of the Earth has been removed in only one day, the seven eyes will come to the stone of the eternal Priest to see God, and the seven fountains will flow to defeat Satan's fire.
Satan… Judas, let us go. And remember that time is running short and the Lamb is to be handed over by Thursday evening. »
Written by Maria Valtorta. From POEM OF THE MAN-GOD, Volume 5, Chapters 588 & 589.
Copyright 1990 by Centro Editoriale Valtortiano, srl, Isola del Liri, Italy. All rights reserved in all countries.