ELEVENTH HOUR (From 3 to 4 AM) Jesus in the house of Caiphas

My afflicted and abandoned Good, while my weak nature sleeps in your
sorrowful Heart, my sleep is often interrupted by the pangs of love and
sorrow of your Divine Heart. Between vigil and sleep, I hear the blows that
they give You, so I wake up and I say: My poor Jesus, abandoned by
everyone! There is no one who takes your part. But from within your Heart
I offer You my life as support for You, as they knock You about. And I fall
asleep again; but another pang of love of your Divine Heart wakes me up,
and I am deafened by the insults that they send You, by the whispering, the
shouting and the running of people.

My Love, how is it that they are all against You? What have You done that
they want to tear You to pieces like many rabid wolves? I feel my blood
freeze in hearing the preparations of your enemies, and I tremble in anguish
thinking of what to do in order to defend You.

But my afflicted Jesus, keeping me in His Heart, squeezes me more tightly,
and says to me: “My child, I have done nothing wrong, and I have done
everything: mine is the crime of love, which contains all sacrifices, and
love of immeasurable cost. We are still at the beginning; remain in my
Heart, observe everything, love Me, be silent, and learn. Let your ice cold
blood flow in my veins so as to refresh my Blood which is all in flames. Let
your trembling flow within my limbs, so that, being identified with Me, you
may be strengthened and warmed in order to feel part of my pains, and you
may also acquire strength in seeing Me suffer so much. This will be the
most beautiful defense that you can make for Me. Be faithful to Me, and be
attentive.”

Sweet Love of mine, the clamor of your enemies is so intense and so great
that I can no longer sleep. The shoves become more violent. I hear the noise
of the chains with which they bound You, and so tightly as to make living
blood ooze from your wrists, with which You mark those streets. Remember
that my blood is in Yours, and as You shed It, mine kisses It, adores It and
repairs It. May your Blood be light to all those who offend You at night, and
a magnet to draw all hearts around You, my Love and my All.

While they drag You, the air seems to be deafened by shouts and whistles.
And You arrive before Caiphas. You are all meek, modest, humble; your
sweetness and patience is such as to terrorize even your enemies; and
Caiphas, full of rage, would want to devour You. Ah, how well can
Innocence and sin be distinguished!

My Love, You are before Caiphas as the most guilty, in the act of being
condemned. Caiphas asks the witnesses what your crimes are. Ah, he
should rather have asked what is your love! And some accuse You of one
thing, some of another, speaking nonsense and contradicting themselves. As
they accuse You, the soldiers who are near You tear your hair, and unload
horrible slaps on your most holy Face, such as to resound through the whole
room; they twist your lips, they hit You, while You remain silent and suffer.
And if You look at them, the light of your eyes descends into their hearts,
and unable to sustain it, they move away from You. But others take their
place, to make of You a greater slaughter.

But in the midst of many accusations and offenses, I see You pricking up
your ears. Your Heart beats strongly, and is about to burst with pain. Tell
me, my afflicted Good, what is it? I see that your love is so great that You
anxiously await that which your enemies are doing to You, and You offer it
for our salvation. In total calm, your Heart repairs for slanders, hatred, false
witnessings, and for the evil done to innocents with premeditation; and You
repair for those who offend You upon the instigation of leaders, and for the
offenses of the ecclesiastics. And while I am united with You, following
your own reparations, I feel a change in You - from a new sorrow, never
before felt. Tell me, tell me, what is it? Share everything with me, O Jesus.
“Child, do you want to know? I hear the voice of Peter who says he does
not know Me. Then he swore, and then, again, he perjured and
anathematized knowing Me. O Peter, what! You do not know Me? Don’t
you remember with how many gifts I filled you? Ah, if others make Me die
of pains, you make Me die of sorrow! Ah, how wrong it was of you to
follow Me from a distance, and so expose yourself to the occasions!”
My denied Good, how quickly the offenses of your dearest ones can be
recognized! O Jesus, I want to make my heartbeat flow within Yours to
soothe the harrowing spasm that You suffer. And my heartbeat in Yours
swears loyalty and love to You, and repeats and swears thousands and
thousands of times that I know You.

But your love is not yet calmed, and You try to look at Peter. At your loving
glances, dripping with tears because of his denial, Peter is moved, and he
cries and leaves. Having led him to safety, You calm Yourself, and in this
way repair the offenses of the Popes and of the leaders of the Church,
especially of those who expose themselves to occasions.

Meanwhile, your enemies continue to accuse You; and in seeing that You
do not answer to their accusations, Caiphas says to You: “I beseech You,
for the sake of the living God, tell me - are You really the true Son of God?”
And You, my Love, having the word of truth always on your lips, with
supreme Majesty, and with sonorous and gentle voice, such that all are
struck, and the very demons plunge themselves into the abyss, answer:
“You say so. Yes, I am the true Son of God, and one day I will descend on
the clouds of Heaven to judge all nations.”

At your creative words, all remain silent - they shudder and feel frightened.
But Caiphas, recovering after a few moments of fright, full of rage, more
than a fierce animal, says to all: “What need do we have of more witnesses?
He has already uttered a great blasphemy! What more are we waiting for to
condemn him? He is already guilty to death!”

And to give more strength to his words, he tears his clothes with such rage
and fury that all, as though one, hurl themselves at You, my Good; some
punch your head, some tear your hair, some slap You, some spit on your
Face, some trample upon You. The torments that they give You are so
intense and so many that the earth trembles and the Heavens are shaken.
My Love and my Life, Jesus, as they torment You, my poor heart is
lacerated by the pain. O please, allow me to leave your sorrowful Heart and
face all these offenses in your place. Ah, if it were possible, I would like to
snatch You from the hands of your enemies. But You do not want it,
because the salvation of all requires it, and I am forced to resign myself.
But, sweet Love of mine, let me tidy You up, fix your hair, remove the spit,
dry your Blood, and enclose myself in your Heart, as I see that Caiphas,
tired, wants to withdraw, delivering You into the hands of the soldiers.
Therefore, I bless You; and You, bless me and give me the kiss of your love.
And I enclose myself in the furnace of your Divine Heart to sleep. I place
my mouth on your Heart, so that in breathing, I may kiss You, and from the
differences in your heartbeats, more or less suffering, I may sense whether
You are suffering or resting. Therefore, making wings of my arms to keep
You sheltered, I hug You, I cling tightly to your Heart, and I fall asleep.

Reflections and Practices

Jesus, presented to Caiphas, is unjustly accused and subjected to unheard-of
tortures. Questioned, He always says the truth.

And we - when the Lord allows that we be slandered and unjustly accused,
do we look only for God, who knows our innocence; or do we rather beg
esteem and honor from creatures? Does truth always arise on our lips? Are
we averse to any trick and lie? Do we bear with patience the mockeries and
the confusions that creatures give us? Are we ready to give our life for
their salvation?

O my sweet Jesus, how different I am from you! Please, let my lips speak
always the truth so as to wound the heart of those who listen to me, and
lead everyone to You!