NINTH HOUR (From 1 to 2 AM) Thrown from a ledge, Jesus falls into the Cedron stream

My beloved Good, my poor mind follows You between vigil and sleep. How
can I leave myself prey to sleep, when I see that everyone leaves You and
runs away from You? The Apostles themselves, the fervent Peter, who a
little while ago said he wanted to give his life for You; the beloved disciple
whom, with so much love, You allowed to rest upon your Heart – ah, they
all abandon You, and leave You at the mercy of your cruel enemies!

My Jesus, You are alone! Your most pure eyes look around to see if at
least one of those favored by You is following You to prove to You his
love and to defend You. And as You see that no one
– no one has remained faithful to You, your Heart catches, and You burst
into crying. You feel more pain for the abandonment of your most faithful
ones, than for what the very enemies are doing to You. My Jesus, do not
cry; or rather, let me cry together with You. And lovable Jesus seems to say:
“Ah, child, let us cry together over the lot of so many souls consecrated to
Me, who, over little trials, over incidents of life, no longer take care of Me
and leave Me alone; for many others, timid and cowardly, who, for lack of
courage and trust, abandon Me; for many upon many who, not finding their
own advantage in holy things, do not care about Me; for many priests who
preach, who celebrate, who confess for love of interest and of self-glory.
These show that they are around Me, but I remain always alone! Ah, child,
how hard is this abandonment for Me! Not only do my eyes cry, but my
Heart bleeds! O please, I beg you to repair my bitter pain by promising that
you will not leave Me alone.”

Yes, O my Jesus, I promise, helped by your grace, identifying myself with
your Divine Will. But, O Jesus, while You cry over the abandonment of your
dear ones, the enemies spare no outrage that they can do to You. Gripped
and bound as You are, O my Good, to the point that You cannot even take a
step by Yourself, they trample on You; they drag You along those ways full
of rocks and thorns, such that there is no movement which does not make
You knock against the rocks and be pricked by the thorns. Ah, my Jesus, I
see that as they drag You, You leave behind Yourself your precious Blood,
and your golden hair which they tear from your head! My Life and my All,
allow me to gather it, that I may bind all the steps of creatures who do not
spare You even at nighttime; rather, they use the night to offend You more –
some for gatherings, some for pleasures, some for theatricals, some for
committing sacrilegious thefts! My Jesus, I unite myself to You in order to
repair for all these offenses.

But, O my Jesus, we are now at the Cedron stream, and the perfidious Jews
prepare to throw You into it. They make You bump against a rock which is
there, with such violence as to make You shed most precious Blood from
your mouth, with which You mark that rock! Then, pulling You, they cast
You down into those putrid waters, in such a way that these enter into your
ears, into your mouth, into your nostrils. Oh, unreachable love, You remain
inundated and as though wrapped by those putrid, nauseating and cold
waters. In this way, You represent, vividly, the heart-rending state of
creatures when they commit sin! Oh, how they remain covered, inside and
out, by a mantle of filth, such as to be disgusting to Heaven and to whomever
can see them, therefore attracting the lightnings of Divine Justice upon
themselves! Oh, Life of my life, can there ever be greater love? In order to
remove from us this mantle of filth, You allow your enemies to throw You
into this stream, and You suffer everything to repair for the sacrileges and
the coldness of the souls who receive You sacrilegiously, and who, more
than the stream, force You to enter into their hearts, and to make You feel all
of their nausea! You also permit that these waters penetrate deep into your
bowels; so much so, that the enemies, fearing that You may be drowned, in
order to spare You for greater torments, lift You up. But You are so
disgusting that they themselves feel nauseated to touch You.

My tender Jesus, You are now out of the stream. My heart cannot bear
seeing You so wettened by those nauseating waters. I see You shivering
from head to foot because of the cold. You look around, searching with
your eyes, what You cannot do with your voice, for one at least who would
dry You, clean You and warm You. But, in vain – no one is moved to pity
for You: the enemies mock You and deride You; your own have abandoned
You; your sweet Mama is far away, because the Father so disposes!

Here I am, O Jesus - come into my arms. I want to cry so much as to form
a bath for You in order to wash You, clean You, and with my hands, fix your
hair, which is all disheveled. My Love, I want to enclose You in my heart to
warm You with the warmth of my affections; I want to perfume You with
my holy desires; I want to repair for all these offenses, and place my life
together with Yours, in order to save all souls. I want to offer You my heart
as a place of rest, to be able to somehow relieve You from the pains You
have suffered up to now; and then, we will continue together the way of your
Passion.

Reflections and Practices

In this hour Jesus abandoned Himself at the mercy of His enemies, who
reached the point of throwing Him into the Cedron stream. But the
Humanity of Jesus looked at all of them with love, bearing everything for
love of them.

And we - do we abandon ourselves at the mercy of the Will of God?
In our weaknesses and falls, are we ready to stand up again to throw
ourselves into the arms of Jesus? Tormented Jesus was thrown into the
Cedron stream, feeling suffocation, nausea and repugnance. And we - do
we abhor any stain and shadow of sin? Are we ready to give shelter to
Jesus in our heart, so as not to make Him feel the nausea which other souls
give Him with sin, and to compensate for the nausea that we ourselves
have given Him many times?

My tormented Jesus, do not spare me in anything, and let me be the object of
your divine and loving aims!