My Jesus! An hour has already passed since You were in the Garden of Gethsemane. Love has taken the upper hand in everything and is suddenly making You suffer what the executioner's servants are making You suffer in the course of Your most bitter Passion.

My Jesus! I see You faltering in Your steps, and yet You are moving forward. Tell me, my greatest good, where are You directing Your steps? Ah, You want to seek out Your beloved disciples. I accompany You to hold You in my arms when You stagger.

My Jesus! Another bitter pain awaits You. The disciples are asleep. You, always compassionate, call them awake and admonish them with fatherly love, telling them to watch and pray. Then You return to the garden. But You carry another wound in Your heart, and in it I see all the wounds that souls consecrated to God inflict on You. Instead of joining You, watching and praying, they abandon themselves, be it because of negligence, be it because they are tempted, be it because they are not in the right frame of mind. While they should be advancing in love and union with You, they sleep, become lukewarm and regress. How I pity You, lover of souls! Oh, I would like to atone for all the ingratitude of those who are so dear to You. These infidelities grieve Your adorable heart the most. So great is the bitterness of pain that it would crush You. O love without end! The blood that boils in Your veins conquers everything and forgets everything. I see you lying on the ground praying. You sacrifice yourself, atone and strive to glorify the Father for all people. I too, my Jesus, prostrate myself with You, and in union with You I want to do what You do. But what do I see, my Jesus? I see You laden with all the sins of the whole world. All our misery, all our weakness, the most serious offenses, the most outrageous ingratitude, the most appalling crimes, the most unrestrained cruelties, all outbreaks of hatred, the slaughter of people, all blasphemies, all heresies and schisms, indeed the whole abyss of human depravity are set before Your eyes, pressing You down, crushing You and inflicting deep wounds. And what do You do? The blood that flows within You in hot love opposes all these offenses. The veins open, the blood gushes out, wets the clothes, runs to the ground. And You give blood for insults, life for death.

My dear, what a state I see You in! Your breath is heavy. My sweet life, do not pass away! Raise Your head from the earth, which is reddened by Your precious blood. Come into my arms and let me die in this embrace in Your place. But I hear Your trembling, almost dead voice pleading: "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me. Yet not My will, but Yours be done!" This is the second time You have spoken like this. Your voice pierces my heart like a sword. All the indignations of Your creatures come before Your eyes. That Fiat! (Thy will be done!), which is supposed to be the life of every human being, I see almost all of them rejecting it. Instead of life, they find death. And You, who want to give life to all the children of men and make solemn reparation to the Father for the indignations of those who evade His will and are lost, repeat three times: "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me! (The cup is indeed very bitter.) Yet not My will, but Yours be done!" While You are saying this, my greatest good, You are overwhelmed by such bitter pain that it brings You to the extreme, puts You in mortal fear and gives You the impression that You want to draw Your last breath. Jesus, my love! I too want to unite myself with You, to suffer and atone with You for all negligence and sins committed against Your most holy will. I pray that I may fulfill Your most holy will in everything. May Your will be the air I breathe, the beat of my heart, my thought, my life and the triumph in my death.

My Jesus, no, You must not die! Where shall I go without You? To whom shall I turn? Who will stand by me in the future? Everything would come to an end for me. No, don't let me out of Your hands, keep me with You. There shall not be a moment that separates me from You. Let me ease Your pain, atone for You and suffer with You for all, for the weight of sins of every kind weighs heavily on You and threatens to crush You. I venerate Your holy head, my love. I see all the evil thoughts whose appalling ugliness You behold. Each one of them is a thorn that pierces Your head with stabbing pain. Your henchmen will only put a crown of thorns on your head. But how many horrible crowns do the evil thoughts of all men place on Your adorable head? ... Already the blood oozes from all Your limbs, runs from Your forehead, from Your hair and from Your whole body. How I feel pity for You, O Jesus! I would also like to put crowns on Your head, but crowns of glory. I also offer You the thoughts of the holy angels and Your own holy thoughts to show You my compassion, to alleviate Your pain and to atone for all people.

Jesus, I see in Your kind eyes all the evil looks of men who shed tears of blood on Your face. I have compassion for You and want to please Your eyes by showing them all the delights that can be found in heaven and on earth in union with the love of Your heart. Jesus, most high good! Leaning towards You, I hear the echo of the horrible blasphemies, the cries for revenge and the slander. There is no voice that would not find its echo in Your chaste ears. O insatiable love! I have compassion for You and I want to give You consolation by letting all the harmonies of heaven, the sweet voice of Your Mother, the ardent sighs of love of Mary Magdalene and of all God-loving souls resound in Your ears.

My life, I would fervently kiss Your most holy face, whose beauty has no equal; that face which the angels long to behold because of its beauty, which captivates them. And yet the henchmen sully this face with spittle, give it slaps on the cheeks and trample it underfoot. My dear, what audacity! I want to scream to put them to flight. I have pity on You. To atone for these insults, I go to the Most Holy Trinity to ask for the love of the Father and the Holy Spirit, the tenderness of your heavenly Mother and Her deep adoration. I offer all this up to You to atone for the indignities inflicted on Your most holy Face. I feel pity for You because of the bitterness with which Your mouth is filled. Horrible curses, drunkenness and lust of the palate, shameless speeches, badly performed prayers, disastrous teachings, all the evil that man creates with his tongue, have caused it. I have compassion on You and want to give Your mouth sweets to taste by offering You the praises of the angels and the edifying speeches of good Christians who make holy use of their tongues.

My prostrate Jesus! I see Your neck entwined with cords and chains, which the sinful attachment of men prepares for You. I have compassion on You. To raise You up, I offer You as a sacrifice the indissoluble bond that unites the Persons of the Most Holy Trinity. By participating in this union, I stretch out my arms to You in order to forge chains of love for Your neck. In doing so, I want to loosen the chains of sinful attachment that want to suffocate you, as it were. To give You comfort, I press You tightly to my heart.

Jesus, you power of God! I see Your shoulders torn apart. The flesh hangs down in pieces because of the annoyances and evil examples of men. I pity You and offer You Your most holy example, the example of Your royal Mother and that of all the saints, for Your refreshment. I also wish to heal all Your shoulder wounds, to close in them all the souls torn from Your Heart by the sins of offense, so that the mangled body of Your humanity may be healed again.

My disconsolate Jesus! I see Your breast painfully furrowed by the coldness, lukewarmness and ingratitude of people who do not correspond to Your grace. I have compassion for you. To console You, I offer You the reciprocal love of the Father and the Holy Spirit, the full correspondence of the Three Divine Persons. I want to immerse myself in Your love, to give You satisfaction by preventing people from committing new sins that strike You like arrows. On the other hand, I want to wound them with the arrows of Your love so that they no longer dare to offend You. I want to channel Your own love back into Your breast to strengthen and uplift You.

My Jesus, I kiss Your creative hands and perceive how all the evil actions of creatures pierce them like nails. But not with three nails as on the cross, but with as many nails as people commit evil acts. I have pity on you. To comfort You, I offer You all the holy deeds of men and the courage of the martyrs with which they gave their blood and lives out of love for You. I also want to offer You all good works as a sacrifice to take away the countless nails of evil works.

Jesus, I kiss Your holy feet, which are tireless in winning souls. In them You want to close all the steps of the children of men, but You see many of them fleeing from You and You want to stop them. With each of their steps that lead them to evil, You feel a nail being driven into You. And You want to use their nails to attach them to Your love. My God and greatest good! I pity you. To console You in Your pain and for Your efforts to attach people to Your love, I offer You the steps of all good religious and all pious souls who give up their lives to save souls.

Jesus, You continue to endure mortal anguish, not because of the sufferings which the Jews make You endure, but because of those which the sins of men cause You. In these hours You want to give first place to love, second place to the sins for which You make atonement and satisfaction, glorify the Father and appease divine justice; third place to the Jews. Thus You show that the Passion which the Jews make You endure is nothing other than the representation of the twofold, painful Passion which love and sin make You endure. Thus I see united in your heart: the lance of love and the lance of sin. Now you are waiting for the third, the spear of the Jews. Your heart, overwhelmed by love, suffers from its violent movements, from the impatience of its love and consuming longing, from its fiery blows that want to give life to every heart. It is here in Your heart that You feel most keenly all the suffering that creatures cause You. With their evil inclinations, disordered desires and shameful wishes, they seek other love instead of yours.

Jesus, how grievously You suffer! I see You close to fainting, immersed in a sea of human wickedness. I feel deep compassion for You and would like to sweeten the bitterness of Your thrice pierced heart by offering You the bliss of eternal life, the sweet love of Your Mother Mary and that of all Your true lovers in a sacrificial bowl.

My Jesus, make my poor heart receive life from this Heart of Yours, so that it may live with Your Heart alone. May I also be always ready to offer You a refreshment, a consolation, an expiation, an uninterrupted act of love for every offense You suffer.

Reflections and Practices

by St. Fr. Annibale Di Francia

In the second hour in Gethsemane, all sins from all times, past, present and future, present themselves before Jesus, and He loads upon Himself all these sins to give complete Glory to the Father. So, Jesus Christ Expiated, Prayed, and felt all our moods in His Heart without ever ceasing to Pray. And we, do we always pray, in whatever mood we may be—cold, hard, tempted? Do we give Jesus the pains of our soul as reparation and as relief in order to copy Him completely within us, thinking that each mood of ours is a pain of Jesus?

As a pain of Jesus, we must place it around Him to compassionate Him and relieve Him. And if possible we must say to Him, “You have suffered too much. Take rest, and we will suffer in Your place.”

Do we lose heart, or do we remain at the feet of Jesus with courage, giving Him all that we suffer, so that Jesus may find His own Humanity in us? That is, are we His Humanity for Jesus? What did the Humanity of Jesus do? It Glorified Its Father, Expiated, and Pleaded the salvation of souls. And we—do we enclose within ourselves these three intentions of Jesus in everything we do, so as to be able to say, “We enclose within ourselves all the Humanity of Jesus Christ?”

In our moments of darkness, do we place the intention of making the light of truth shine in others? And when we pray with fervor, do we place the intention of melting the ice of many hearts hardened in sin?

My Jesus, in order to compassionate You and relieve You from the total exhaustion in which You find Yourself, I rise up to Heaven and make Your own Divinity my own; and placing It around You, I want to move all the offenses of creatures away from You. I want to offer You Your Beauty to move the ugliness of sin away from You; Your Sanctity to move away the horror of all those souls who make You feel repugnance, because they are dead to grace; Your Peace to move the discords, the rebellions and the disturbances of all creatures away from You; Your Harmonies to relieve Your hearing from the waves of many evil voices. My Jesus, I intend to offer You as many Divine Acts of Reparation for as many offenses as assault You, almost wanting to give You death. And I intend to give You Life with Your own Acts. Then, O my Jesus, I want to throw a wave of Your Divinity upon all creatures, so that, at Your Divine Contact, they may no longer dare to offend You.¹

Only in this way, O Jesus, will I be able to offer You compassion for all the offenses that You receive from creatures.

O Jesus, Sweet Life of mine, may my prayers and my pains rise always toward Heaven, so as to let the Light of Grace rain upon all, and absorb Your own Life in me.

¹ Note the unique and pictorial style of the hermit soul, which, as if transformed into what it contemplates, summarizes its thoughts in a bold image: I want to let a wave from the sea of Your divinity pour over all people. With this she wants to say: I want to let my voice resound loudly to make all people understand that you are the Eternal and Immortal One, to whom alone honor, love and glorification are due: You, my Jesus, who in your infinite love took upon yourself our sins and as the God-man were able to offer a satisfaction that corresponds to divine justice.

Prayer of Thanksgiving after each Holy Hour on the Mount of Olives

Sacrifice and Thanksgiving

Sources:

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