The Hours of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ by Luisa Piccarreta the Little Daughter of the Divine Will

COMMENT:

The DivineWill - The Prologue of the Rule of St. Benedict.

It so happens the for my Lenten Book is The Hours of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Luisa is among twentieth century contemplative souls that Jesus had complained of the ignorance and indifferenve of souls-even consected souls- before the suffering of His Sacred Heart to console him through the most intimate union. Regional Garrigou-Lagrange, OP, said "All the saints have lived until the end of their lives by the contemplation of the Passion."

My Benedictine Lent Reading illuminates the Prologue to name as the Divine Will.

The following the pages of

"First Hour of Agony in the Garden of Gethsemani" recall from the experience of offering Mass with the Franciscans at Getsemani. Mount of Olives pebble in my pocket and much to recall....

RSB 48 The Manual Labour, No. 15; For Lent books from the Library and the Abbot assigns each boot to the monk for the appointed hour.

And in these days of Lent
they shall each receive a book from the library,
which they shall read straight through from the beginning.
These books are to be given out at the beginning of Lent.

Chapter 49: On the Observance of Lent

Mar. 31 - July 31 - Nov. 30

Although the life of a monk
ought to have about it at all times
the character of a Lenten observance,
yet since few have the virtue for that,
we therefore urge that during the actual days of Lent
the brethren keep their lives most pure
and at the same time wash away during these holy days
all the negligences of other times.
And this will be worthily done
if we restrain ourselves from all vices
and give ourselves up to prayer with tears,
to reading, to compunction of heart and to abstinence.
During these days, therefore,
let us increase somewhat the usual burden of our service,
as by private prayers and by abstinence in food and drink.
Thus everyone of his own will may offer God
"with joy of the Holy Spirit" (1 Thess. 1:6)
something above the measure required of him.
From his body, that is
he may withhold some food, drink, sleep, talking and jesting;
and with the joy of spiritual desire
he may look forward to holy Easter.
Let each one, however, suggest to his Abbot
what it is that he wants to offer,
and let it be done with his blessing and approval.
For anything done without the permission of the spiritual father
will be imputed to presumption and vainglory
and will merit no reward.
Therefore let everything be done with the Abbot's approval.

http://www.osb.org/rb/text/rbemjo3.html#49

DEC17

Luisa’s prayer to visit Jesus 33 times each day in the Blessed Sacrament

« Christmas Novena begins December 16th Feast of the Presentation of the Lord »

Hours of Passion:

8 PM Hour: And I, Heart of my heart, want to be always with You in each Tabernacle, in all the pyxes and in each consecrated Host which will ever be until the end of the world, to emit my acts of reparation, according to the offenses You receive.

Luisa’s prayer asking Jesus to give her the grace to visit the Blessed Sacrament 33 times each day VOL. 1:

‘Lord, I beg You to be with me until I acquire the habit of doing them, for I know that with You I can do everything – but without You, what can miserable I do?’

VOL. 1
From letters of Luisa to her extraordinary Confessor

Saint Annibale M. di Francia

“Wherefore I also tell you that the purpose of these Hours of the Passion is, not so much that of recounting the story of the Passion, because there are many books which treat this pious subject, and it would not be necessary to make another one; but the purpose is the REPARATION, uniting together the different points of the Passion of Our Lord with the diversity of so many offenses and, together with Jesus, make worthy REPARATION, redoing for Him almost all that which all creatures owe Him. From this comes the different ways of making REPARATION. In these Hours, that is, in some passages one blesses; in others one compassionates; in others one praises; in others one comforts suffering Jesus; in others one compensates; in others one begs, prays and asks.”

3 – As for the visits and the acts of reparation, you must know that everything I did in the course of thirty-three years, from when I was born up to when I died, I am continuing in the Sacrament of the altar. Therefore I want you to visit Me thirty-three times a day, honoring my years and also uniting with Me in the Sacrament with my own intentions – that is, reparation, adoration… You will do this at all times: with the first thought of the morning, fly before the tabernacle in which I am present for love of you, and visit Me; and also with the last thought of the evening, while you sleep at night, before and after your meal, at the beginning of each one of your actions, while walking, working…”

While He was saying this to me, I saw myself all confused, not knowing whether I could manage to do them; and I said to him: ‘Lord, I beg You to be with me until I acquire the habit of doing them, for I know that with You I can do everything – but without You, what can miserable I do?’ And He, benignly, added: “Yes, yes, I will content you – when have I ever failed you? I want your goodwill – whatever you want, I will give to you.” And so He did.

There may be other prayers that Luisa uses to visit Jesus 33 times each day in the Blessed sacrament; but this is at least one of them.

Meditations on the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ

http://www.theworkofgod.org/Devotns/Stations/meditations_passion_Christ.htm

Reparation Apostolate

Meditations - Hours of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ

By the Servant of God Louisa Piccarreta, the little daugher of the Divine Will

First Hour of Agony in the Garden of Gethsemani, translation above different from Centre for the Divine Will,Jacksonville, Florida edition.

First Hour of Agony in the Garden of Gethsemani

Fifth Hour

From 9 to 10 PM

My afflicted Jesus, I feel drawn to this Garden as by an electric current. I comprehend that You, powerful magnet of my wounded heart, are calling me; and I run, thinking to myself: ‘What are these attractions of love that I feel within me? Ah, maybe my persecuted Jesus is in such a state of bitterness as to feel the need of my company.’ And I fly.

But – no! I feel horrified upon entering this Garden. The darkness of the night, the intensity of the cold, the slow moving of the leaves which, like feeble voices, announce pains, sadness and death for my sorrowful Jesus; the sweet glittering of the stars which, like crying eyes, are all intent on looking, reproach me for my ingratitude. And I tremble; gropingly, I go in search of Him, and I call Him: ‘Jesus, where are You? You call me, and You do not show Yourself? You call me, and You hide?’

Everything is terror, everything is fright and profound silence. But I prick up my ears: I hear a labored breath, and it is Jesus Himself that I find. But what a dismal change! No longer is He the sweet Jesus of the Eucharistic Supper, whose face shone with radiant and enrapturing beauty; but He is sad, of a mortal sadness, such as to disfigure His native beauty. He already agonizes, and I feel troubled in thinking that maybe I will no longer hear His voice, because He seems to be dying. So I cling to His feet; I become more brave – I draw near His arms and I place my hand on His forehead in order to sustain Him, and softly, I call Him: ‘Jesus, Jesus!’

And He, stirred by my voice, looks at me and says: “Child, are you here? I was waiting for you. This was the sadness which oppressed Me the most: the total abandonment of all. And I was waiting for you, to let you be the spectator of my pains, and to let you drink, together with Me, the chalice of bitternesses which, in a little while, my Celestial Father will send Me through the Angel. We will sip from it together, because it will not be a chalice of comfort, but of intense bitternesses, and I feel the need of a few loving souls who would drink at least a few drops of it. This is why I called you – that you may accept it, share with Me the pains, and assure Me that you will not leave Me alone in such great abandonment.”

‘Ah, yes my panting Jesus, we will drink together the chalice of your bitternesses; we will suffer your pains, and I will never move from your side!’

And afflicted Jesus, assured by me, enters into mortal agony, and suffers pains never before seen or understood. And I, unable to resist and wanting to compassionate Him and relieve Him, say to Him: ‘Tell me, why are You so sad, afflicted and alone in this Garden and in this night? This is the last night of your life on earth; a few hours are left for You to begin your Passion. I thought I would find at least the Celestial Mama, the loving Magdalene, the faithful Apostles; but instead, I find You all alone, prey to a sadness which gives You a ruthless death, without making You die. Oh my Good and my All, You do not answer me? Speak to me!’ But it seems You have no speech, so much is the sadness which oppresses You. But, oh my Jesus, that gaze of yours, full of light, yes, but afflicted and searching, such that it seems to be looking for help; your pale face, your lips parched with love, your Divine Person, trembling from head to foot, your Heart, beating so intensely – and those heartbeats search for souls and cause You such labor that it seems that, any moment now, You are about to breathe your last – everything tells me that You are alone, and therefore You want my company.

Here I am, O Jesus, together with You. But I don’t have the heart to see You cast on the ground. I take You in my arms, I press You to my heart; I want to count, one by one, your strainings, and, one by one, the offenses which advance toward You, in order to give You relief for everything, reparation for everything, and to give You at least one act of my compassion, for everything.

But, O my Jesus, while I hold You in my arms, your sufferings increase. My Life, I feel fire flowing in your veins, and I feel your Blood boiling, wanting to burst the veins to come out. Tell me, my Love, what is it? I do not see scourges, nor thorns, nor nails, nor cross; yet, as I place my head upon your Heart, I feel that cruel thorns pierce your head, that ruthless scourges spare not even one smallest part, inside and outside of your Divine Person, and that your hands are paralyzed and contorted, more than by nails. Tell me, my sweet Good, who has so much power, also in your interior, as to torment You and make You suffer as many deaths for as many torments as he gives You?

Ah, it seems that blessed Jesus opens His lips, faint and dying, and says to me: “My child, do you want to know what it is that torments Me more than the very executioners? Rather, those are nothing compared to this! It is the Eternal Love, which, wanting primacy in everything, is making Me suffer, all at once and in the most intimate parts, what the executioners will make Me suffer little by little. Ah, my child, it is Love which prevails in everything, over Me and within Me. Love is nail for Me, Love is scourge, Love is crown of thorns – Love is everything for Me. Love is my perennial passion, while that of men is in time. Ah, my child, enter into my Heart, come to be dissolved in my love, and only in my love will you comprehend how much I suffered and how much I loved you, and you will learn to love Me and to suffer only out of love.”

O my Jesus, since You call me into your Heart to show me what love made You suffer, I enter into It. But as I enter, I see the portents of love, which crowns your head, not with material thorns, but with thorns of fire; which scourges You, not with lashes of ropes, but with lashes of fire; which crucifies You with nails, not made of iron, but of fire. Everything is fire, which penetrates deep into your bones and into your very marrow; and distilling all of your Most Holy Humanity into fire, it gives You mortal pains, certainly greater than the very Passion, and prepares a bath of love for all the souls who will want to be washed of any stain and acquire the right of children of love.

Oh, Love without end, I feel like drawing back before such immensity of love, and I see that in order to enter into love and to comprehend it, I should be all love! O my Jesus, I am not so! But since You want my company, and You want me to enter into You, I pray You to make me become all love.

And so I supplicate You to crown my head and each one of my thoughts with the crown of love. I implore You, O Jesus, to scourge my soul, my body, my powers, my feelings, my desires, my affections – in sum, everything, with the scourge of love; so that, in everything, I may be scourged and sealed by love. Oh endless Love, let there be nothing in me which does not take life from love.

O Jesus, centre of all loves, I beg You to nail my hands and my feet, with the nails of love, so that, completely nailed by love - love I may become, love I may comprehend, with love I may be clothed, with love I may be nourished, and love may keep me completely nailed within You, so that nothing, inside and outside of me, may dare to divert me and take me away from Love, O Jesus!

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Meditations on the Passion of Our Lord - Hours of the Passion

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Tuesday, 10 March 2015

Luisa Piccarreta (11) Cenacle on to Reparation in 'First Hour of Agony in the Garden of Gethsemani'