FIFTH HOUR (From 9 to 10 PM) First Hour of Agony in the Garden of Gethsemani

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.

Jesus, center 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!

Reflections and Practices

In this hour, abandoned by His Eternal Father, Jesus Christ suffered such a
burning fire of love as to be able to destroy all possible and imaginable
sins, and to enflame with His love all creatures, even from millions and
millions of worlds, and the lost souls of hell if they were not eternally
obstinate in their evil. Let us enter into Jesus, and after we have penetrated
into His whole interior, in His most intimate fibers, in those heartbeats of
fire, in His intelligence which was as though enflamed, let us take this love
and clothe ourselves inside and out with the fire that burned Jesus. Then,
coming out of Him and pouring ourselves into His Will, we will find there
all creatures. Let us give the love of Jesus to each one of them, and
touching their hearts and minds with this love let us try to transform them
completely into love. Then, with the desires, with the heartbeats, with the
thoughts of Jesus, let us form Jesus in every creature’s heart. And then we
will bring to Him all creatures who have Jesus in their hearts, and we will
place them around Him, saying: ‘O Jesus, we bring You all creatures with
as many Jesuses in their hearts to give You relief and comfort. We have no
other way to give relief to your love other than to bring every creature into
your Heart!’ By doing this, we will give true relief to Jesus, since the
flames that burn Him are such that He keeps repeating: ‘I burn, and there
is nobody who takes my love. O please, give Me relief, take my love and
give Me love!’

In order to conform to Jesus in everything, we must go back into ourselves,
applying these reflections to ourselves: in all that we do, can we say that
there is a continuous flow of love running between us and God? Our life is
a continuous flow of love which we receive from God; if we think, there is a
flow of love; if we work, there is a flow of love. The word is love, the
heartbeat is love; we receive everything from God. But do all these actions
run toward God with love? Does Jesus find in us the sweet enchantment of
His love running toward Him, so that, enraptured by this enchantment, He
may overflow with us with more abundant love?

If we have not placed the intention of running together in the love of Jesus in
all that we have done, we will enter into ourselves and ask Him forgiveness
for causing Him the loss of the sweet enchantment of His love toward us.
Do we let ourselves be worked by the divine hands, as the Humanity of
Jesus Christ let Itself be worked? We must take everything that happens
within ourselves, which is not sin, as divine crafting. If we do not do so, we
deny the glory to the Father, we make divine life escape, and we lose
sanctity. Everything we feel within ourselves - inspirations, mortifications,
graces - is nothing other than a crafting of love. Do we take those things as
God wants? Do we give Jesus the freedom to work, or by taking everything
in a human manner and as meaningless, do we rather reject the divine
crafting, forcing Him to bend His arms? Do we abandon ourselves in His
arms as though we were dead in order to receive all the blows which the
Lord will dispose for our sanctification?

My Love and my All, may your love inundate me everywhere, and burn all
that is not yours. Let my love run always toward You, to burn away all that
may sadden your Heart.