The Agony in the Garden
While on earth, I was not present during My Divine Son’s agony in the garden, and I did not see His great anguish at the thought of His approaching death. As His Mother, however, I felt within My own Soul a pressing sadness which consumed My entire Being. I knew He thought of the injustices to befall Him often during the last months of His life.
Now in Heaven, I possess all knowledge and can relate to you the events as they took place. My Son, aware of the violent death He was to suffer for all mankind, took His eleven Apostles into a nearby garden, the purpose being to pray. Now Judas was not present as he was already about his dirty work. The Apostles were very weary and fell asleep, but My Beloved Son noticed nothing of His surroundings once He became enveloped in prayer. He saw each blow of the scourging. He felt the weight of the crossbeam on His Shoulders. He knew each Muscle and Nerve that would be severed by the nails. He saw the sinfulness of mankind not only at that time but in the future as well. He saw atrocities of war and terrorism, the degradation of the human body, the hate man would hold in his heart for his brethren.
At last He saw the many lukewarm souls who were acquainted with Him at some point in their lives but chose, and continue to choose, the world over Him. At this point, He addressed the Father and asked for the cup of suffering to pass Him by. But finally with a deep resignation to the Will of the Father, He said, “Not My will but Yours be done.” I tell you — none of earth have or will suffer mental anguish as did My Son in the Garden of Gethsemane.
The Scourging at the Pillar
I witnessed this Myself. My Beloved Son was led by the soldiers to the courtyard. Their treatment of Him was particularly rough. They chained His Wrists high up on a pillar so that His Flesh was pulled taut, thereby making it more easily lacerated. He was stripped of His garments. The whips that were used were not ordinary whips. They were so designed to tear and gouge at the victim’s flesh. A soldier stood on each side of Jesus and took turns assailing His Sacred Flesh. In all, He sustained over 5000 wounds.
When all was done, He was left standing in a pool of Blood. For modesty’s sake, He again covered Himself and was led away leaving behind bloodied footprints. By this time, His Head throbbed from dehydration. How I longed to comfort Him. I was so grief-stricken at the sight of Him. The soldiers, knowing well their craft, had stopped just short of rendering Him unconscious. So now in His Divinity, He knew well each pain that still awaited Him. I would ask, that you console Him in prayer and penance. Thank you.
The Crowning with Thorns
The soldiers were not content with the brutal scourging they inflicted on My Beloved Son. Now they draped His Body with a garment as for a king, all done with a gesture of mockery. They knew not that they had before them the King of Kings. They fashioned a crown for Him of thorns which grew close by. These thorns were much longer than what you imagine.
They placed His crown upon His Sacred Head and proceeded to bow before Him, mocking His royalty. They struck the crown of thorns with long sticks, thereby forcing these instruments of torture into His Sacred Head. This caused the Precious Blood to flow down His Face into His Eyes and in so doing blocked His vision. But He loved them so. Yes, He loved deeply even these who tormented Him. With great humility He bore all. He could have, with one sigh, beckoned all the Legions of Angels to His aid, but He chose to suffer in humility for all mankind.
The Carrying of the Cross
My Beloved Son, His Flesh torn and pulled from the Bones, was now given in His weakened state the crossbeam of the Cross to bear upon His Shoulders. His whole being trembled with weakness. His vision was now blurred from the ceaseless flow of Blood rendered by the crown of thorns. He later told Me that He continually saw passing before Him, as He bore the weight of the Cross, the millions of lukewarm souls that His sacrifice would mean so little to. But He was prodded on, both by the soldiers and by His eternal love for all humanity. There were the agonizing falls until another was pressed to assist Him.
When I met Him, I could barely look Him in the Eye, not wanting Him to see My great distress, though he felt it, I’m sure. His look was one of resignation and at the same time compassion for Me. He fell many times on this road of atonement for sinners, each fall rendering Him more and more debilitated. Finally He reached His destination. There He sat Himself down and with great anguish offered a prayer to the Father. In all that He suffered, He showed great patience.
They put a type of harness about My Son that He might be led like an animal. This girdle aggravated the Wounds He sustained during the scourging. The great crossbeam was given to Him to bear upon His torn Shoulders and with much disgust and contempt He was led to Golgotha. Once there, He was unleashed and allowed to sit upon a rock while the Cross was prepared for Him. Now He was wringing His Hands and looking towards Heaven as though desperate for assistance. At one point, He was laid upon the Cross still on the ground so as to fit it to His Sacred Body.
The holes for the nails were then bored into the wood. This accomplished, they called Him back to lay upon the Cross and have His Sacred Flesh pierced by the nails. Now He felt the blows of the mallets before they were even struck, and long after. Some adjustment was made with two of His Limbs, which did not reach the prepared nail holes. He also suffered as though upon the rack as His Arm and Leg were dislocated from their Sockets.
Now the Cross was erected. It was not very tall, I being able to touch His Feet. But I could not bring Myself to lay a finger on His tortured Flesh. As He hung in agony, the unknowing soldiers cast lots for His poor piece of clothing. They were so detached and unaware of their deed. Now the sky darkened. Many onlookers began to take their leave. My Son spoke little but each word carried great weight. He addressed St. John and Me. I knew as He spoke to Me that it was not just John He gave Me to Mother but all of mankind. This I accepted gladly.
Towards the last hour of His life, He was little able to move, to breathe, and His speech was quite hoarse, though still clear enough to understand. As He took on the sins of mankind, He felt abandoned by the Father. At last, He gave up His Spirit. Now the earth began to tremble and heave as though sighing over its loss. Still, I waited as a foreigner came to claim His Body for burial. As His limp Form was loosened from the Cross and lowered to My Arms I wept in sorrow. I could not hold Him as long as I wished because of the lateness of the hour. They took Him from Me.