26th August 1944.
I see Anne coming out of the garden.
She is leaning on the arm of a relative, who is like her. She is
obviously several months pregnant and she looks tired and her fatigue
is not alleviated by the sultriness, just as this present heat is
exhausting me.
Although the garden is shady, it is
very hot and close. The air can be cut like a soft warm dough, it is
so heavy. The sun's rays descend from a merciless blue sky and there
is some dust making the atmosphere slightly dull. The weather must
have been dry for a long time, because where there is no irrigation,
the land is literally reduced to a very fine, almost white dust. Out
in the open this shade of white is slightly pink, whereas it is a
dark red-brown under the trees, where the soil is damp. Likewise the
ground is moist along the small flower-beds, where rows of vegetables
are growing, and around the rose bushes, the jasmines and other
flowers, and particularly in the front of and along the beautiful
pergola, which divides the orchard in two, up to the beginning of the
fields, now stripped of their crops. The grass of the meadow, which
marks the boundary of the property, is parched and thin. Only at its
border, where there is a hedge of wild hawthorn, already completely
studded with the rubies of its little fruits, is the grass greener
and thicker. There are some sheep thereabouts with a young shepherd
seeking pasture and shade.
Joachim is working around the rows of
vines and olive-trees. There are two men with him, helping him.
Although an elderly man he is quick and works eagerly. They are
opening little channels at the end of a field to give water to the
dry plants, and this water makes its way gurgling between the grass
and the dry land. The flow forms circles that for one moment resemble
a yellowish crystal and seconds later are only rings of wet soil,
around the overloaded vine branches and the olive-trees.
Along the shady pergola, under which
golden bees are buzzing, greedy for the sugar of the golden grapes,
Anne moves slowly towards Joachim, who hastens towards her as soon as
he sees her.
« You came so far? »
« The house is as hot as an oven.»
«And you suffer from it. »
« The only suffering of this last hour
is that of a pregnant woman. The natural suffering of everybody: man
and beast. Don't get too warm, Joachim.»
« The water we have been hoping for,
for such a long time, and that for fully three days seemed so close,
has not yet come and the country is parched. We are lucky to have a
spring so near and so rich in water. I have opened the channels. It
is a measure of relief for the plants which have withering leaves and
are covered with dust: just enough to keep them alive. If it would
only rain...» Joachim, with the eagerness of all farmers, looks at
the sky, while Anne, tired, cools herself with a fan that seems to be
made of the dry leaf of a palm interwoven with many-coloured threads
keeping it firm.
Anne's companion interrupts: « Over
there, beyond the Great Hermon, fast clouds are arising. There is a
northern wind. It will refreshen and perhaps bring rain.»
« The breeze has risen for three days
and then it sets when the moon rises. It will do the same again.»
Joachim is discouraged.
« Let us go back home. Even here one
can hardly breathe, and in any case I think it is better to go
back...» says Anne, who looks more olive-hued than usual, owing to a
paleness which has come over her face.
« Are you in pain? »
« No. But I can feel the great peace
that I experienced in the Temple when I was granted the grace, and
which I felt once again when I knew I was pregnant. It is like an
ecstasy, a sweet sleep of the body while the soul rejoices and calms
itself in a peace that has no bodily parallel. I have loved and still
do love you, Joachim, and when I entered your house and I said to
myself: "I am the wife of a just man", I had peace: and I
felt the same every time your provident love took care of your Anne.
But this peace is different. Understand: I think that the soul of our
father Jacob was invaded by a similar peace, like the soothing given
by oil that spreads and appeases, after he dreamt of the angels. And,
possibly more accurately, it is like the joyful peace of the Tobiahs
after Raphael appeared to them. If I absorb myself in this feeling,
it grows more and more in strength while I enjoy it. It is as if I
were ascending into the blue spaces of the sky... And furthermore, I
don't know the reason for it, but since I have had this peaceful joy
in me, I have a song in my heart: old Tobiah's song. I think it was
written for this hour... for this joy... for the land of Israel that
receives it... for Jerusalem-sinner and now forgiven... But do not
laugh at the frenzy of a mother... but when I say: "Thank the
Lord for your wealth and bless the God of centuries, that He may
rebuild His Tabernacle in you", I think that He Who will rebuild
the Tabernacle of the true God in Jerusalem will be This One who is
about to be born... And I also think that the destiny of my creature
was prophesied and not the fate of the Holy City, when the song says:
"You shall shine with a bright light: all the peoples of the
world will prostrate themselves before you: the nations will come
bringing gifts: they will worship the Lord in you and will hold your
land as sacred, because within you they invoke the Great Name. You
will be happy on account of your children, because they will all be
blessed and they will gather near the Lord. Blessed are those who
love you and rejoice in your peace..." And I am the first to
rejoice, her happy mother...» Anne changes colour, when saying these
words and she lights up like something brought from the paleness of
moonlight to the brightness of a great fire and vice versa. Sweet
tears, of which she is unaware, run down her cheeks and she smiles in
her joy. And in the meantime she moves towards the house, walking
between her husband and her relative, who listen and, deeply moved,
are silent.
They make haste because clouds driven
by a strong wind, rush across and gather in the sky, while the plain
darkens and shudders at the warning of a storm. When they reach the
threshold of the dwelling, a first livid flash of lightning crosses
the sky and the rumble of the first peal of thunder sounds like the
roll of a huge drum that mingles with the arpeggio (1) of the first
drops on the parched leaves.
They all go in and Anne withdraws,
while Joachim, standing at the door, talks with the workers, who have
in the meantime joined him: the conversation is about the longed for
water which is a blessing for the parched land. But their joy turns
into fear because a very violent storm is approaching with lightening
and clouds threatening hail. « If the cloud bursts, it will crush
the grapes and the olives like a millstone. Poor me! »
Joachim is also anxious for his wife,
whose time has come to give birth to her child. His relative
reassures him that Anne is not suffering at all. But he is agitated,
and every time his relative or any other woman, amongst whom is
Alphaeus' mother, comes out of Anne's room and goes back in again
with hot water and basins and linens dried near the blazing fireplace
in the large kitchen, he goes and makes enquiries, but he does not
calm down despite their reassurances. Also the lack of cries from
Anne worries him. He says: « I am a man and I have never seen a
child being born. But I remember hearing that the absence of throes
is fatal.»
It is growing dark and the evening is
preceded by a furious and very violent storm: it brings torrential
rain, wind, lightning, everything, except hail, which has fallen
elsewhere.
One of the workers notices the ferocity
of the gale: « It looks as if Satan has come out of Gehenna with his
demons. Look at those black clouds! You can smell sulphur in the air
and you can hear whistling and hisses, and wailing and cursing
voices. If it is him , he is furious this evening! »
The other worker laughs and scoffs: «
A great prey must have escaped him, or Michael has struck him with a
new thunderbolt from God, and he has had his horns and tail clipped
and burnt. »
A woman passes by and shouts: «Joachim!
It is coming. And it is happening quickly and well!» and she
disappears with a small amphora in her hands.
The storm drops suddenly, after one
last thunderbolt that is so violent that it throws the three men
against the side wall; and in front of the house, in the garden, a
black smoky cavity remains as its memory! Meanwhile a cry, one
resembling the tiny plea of a little turtle-dove that for the very
first time no longer peeps but cooes, is heard from beyond Anne's
door. And at the same time a huge rainbow stretches its semicircle
across the sky. It rises, or seems to rise, from the top of Hermon,
which kissed by the sun, looks like a most delicate pinkish
alabaster: it rises up in the clear September sky and through an
atmosphere cleaned of all impurities, it crosses over the hills of
Galilee and the plain to the south, and over another mountain, and
seems to rest the other end on the distant horizon, where it drops
from view behind a chain of high mountains.
« We have never seen anything like
this! »
« Look, look! »
« It seems to enclose in a circle the
whole of the land of Israel. And look! there is already a star in the
sky while the sun has not yet set. What a star! It is shining like a
huge diamond!...»
« And the moon, over there, is a full
moon, three days early. But look how she is shining! »
The women arrive jubilant with a plump
little baby wrapped in plain linens.
It is Mary, the Mother. A very tiny
Mary, who could sleep in the arms of a child, a Mary as long, at
most, as an arm, with a little head of ivory dyed pale pink. Her tiny
car mine lips no longer cry but are set in the instinctive act of
sucking: they are so small that one cannot understand how they will
be able to take a teat. Her pretty little nose is between two tiny
round cheeks, and when they get Her to open Her eyes, by teasing Her,
they see two small parts of the sky, two innocent blue points that
look but cannot see, between thin fair eyelashes. Also Her hair on
Her little round head is a pinkish blond, like the colour of certain
honeys which are almost white.
Her ears are two small shells,
transparent, perfect. Her tiny hands... what are those two little
things groping in the air and ending up in Her mouth? Closed, as they
are now, they are two rose buds that split the green of their sepals
and show their silk within. When they are open, as now, they are two
ivory jewels, made of pink ivory and alabaster with five pale garnets
as nails. How will those two tiny hands be able to dry so many tears?
And Her little feet? Where are they?
For the time being they are just kicking, hidden in the linens. But
now the relative sits down and uncovers Her... Oh, the little feet!
They are about four centimetres long. Each sole is a coral shell,
with a snow white top veined in blue. Her toes are masterpieces of
Lilliputian sculpture: they, too, are crowned with small scales of
pale garnet. But where will they find small sandals, when those
little feet of a doll will take their first steps, sandals small
enough to fit such tiny feet? And how will those little feet be able
to go such a long way and bear so much pain under the cross?
But that for the time being is not
known, and the onlookers smile and laugh at her kicking, at Her well
shaped legs, at Her minute plumpish thighs that form dimples and
rings, at Her little tummy, a cup turned upside-down, at Her tiny
perfect chest. Under the skin of Her breast, as soft as fine silk,
the movement of Her breathing can be seen and the beating of Her
little heart can be heard, if, as Her happy father is doing now, one
lays one's lips there for a kiss... This is the most beautiful little
heart the world will ever know: the only immaculate heart of a human
being.
And Her back? They are now turning Her
over and they can see the curve of Her kidneys and then the plump
shoulders and the pink nape of Her neck, which is so strong that the
little head lifts itself up on the arch of the minute vertebrae. It
looks like the little head of a bird that scans the new world that it
views. She, the Pure and Chaste One, protests with a little cry at
being thus exposed to the eyes of so many, She, Entirely Virgin, the
Holy and Immaculate, Whom no man will ever see nude again, protests.
Cover, do cover this bud of a lily
which will never be opened on earth and which, still remaining a bud,
will bear its Flower, even more beautiful than Herself. Only in
Heaven the Lily of the Trine Lord will open all its petals. Because
up there, there is no particle of fault that may unwillingly
profane its spotlessness. Because up
there the Trine God is to be received, in the presence of the whole
Empyrean, the Trine God that within a few years, hidden in a
faultless heart, will be in Her: Father, Son, Spouse.
Here She is again, in Her linens, in
the arms of Her earthly father, whom She resembles. Not at the
moment. Now She is just a little human baby. I mean that She will be
like him when She has grown into a woman. She has nothing of Her
mother. She has Her father's colour of complexion and eyes and
certainly also his hair. His hair is now white, but when he was young
it was certainly fair, as one can tell from his eyebrows. She has Her
father's features, made more perfect and gentle, being a woman, but
that special Woman. She has also the smile, the glance, the way of
moving and height of Her father. Thinking of Jesus, as I see Him, I
find Anne has given her height to her Grandson and her deep ivory
colour to His skin. Mary, instead, has not the stateliness of Her
mother: a tall and supple palm-tree, but She has the kindness of Her
father.
Also the women are speaking of the
storm and the unusual state of the moon, of the presence of the star
and the rainbow. Along with Joachim they enter the happy mother's
room and give her her baby.
Anne smiles at one of her thoughts: «
She is the Star » she says. « Her sign is in Heaven. Mary, arch of
peace! Mary, my Star! Mary, pure moon! Mary, our pearl! »
« Are you calling Her Mary? »
« Yes. Mary, star and pearl and light
and peace...»
« But it means also bitterness... Are
you not afraid of bringing Her misfortune? »
« God is with Her. She belongs to Him
before She existed. He will lead Her along His ways and all
bitterness will turn into heavenly honey. Now be of Your mummy... for
a little longer, before being all of God ...»
And the vision ends on the first sleep
of Anne, a mother, and Mary, an infant.
---------------
(1) Arpeggio: the sounding of notes in
rapid succession.
---------------
27th August 1944.
Jesus says:
« Rise and make haste, My little
friend. I am longing to take you with Me on the heavenly
contemplation of Mary's Virginity. You will emerge from this
experience with your soul as fresh as if you too were created at the
moment by the Father, a little Eve not yet aware of the flesh. You
will emerge with your soul filled with light, because you will plunge
into God's masterpiece. You will emerge with your whole being
saturated in love, because you will, have understood the degree to
which God can love. To speak of the conception of Mary, the
Immaculate, means to penetrate the sky, light, love.
Come and read Her glories in the Book
of the Ancestor. "God possessed me at the beginning of His
works, from the beginning, before the Creation. From everlasting I
was firmly set, in the beginning, before earth came into being, the
deep did not yet exist and I was already conceived. The springs did
not yet gush with water and the mountains had not yet risen in their
huge masses, neither were the hills jewels in the sun, when I came to
birth. God had not yet made the earth, the rivers and the foundation
of the world, and I was there. When He prepared the Heavens I was
present, when with immutable laws He enclosed the deep under the
surface, when He fixed the Heavens firm and He suspended there the
springs of water, when He assigned the sea its boundaries and gave
laws to the waters, when He ordered the waters not to invade the
shore, when He laid down the foundations of the earth, I was with Him
arranging everything. I always played joyfully in His presence, I
played in the universe..." You applied these words to Wisdom,
but they speak of Her: the beautiful Mother, the holy Mother, the
Virgin Mother of Wisdom that I am, Who am now speaking to you.
I wanted you to write the first line of
the song at the top of the book that speaks of Her, that She might be
contemplated and the consolation and joy of God might be known; the
reason for the constant, perfect, intimate delight of this God One
and Trine, Who rules and loves you and Who received from man so many
reasons for being sad; the reason why He perpetuated the human race,
even when, at the first test, humanity deserved to be destroyed; the
reason for the forgiveness you have received.
To have Mary that loved Him! Oh! It was
well worth while creating Man and allowing him to exist and decreeing
to forgive him, to have the Beautiful Virgin, the Holy Virgin, the
Immaculate Virgin, the Loving Virgin, the Beloved Daughter, the Most
Pure Mother, the Loving Spouse! God has given you so much and would
have given you even more to possess the Creature of His delight, the
Sun of His sun, the Flower of His garden. And He continues to give
you so much on account of Her, at Her request, for Her joy, because
Her joy flows into the joy of God and increases it with flashes that
fill the light, the great light of Paradise with brilliant sparkles
and every sparkle is a grace to the universe, to mankind, to the
blessed souls who reply with a jubilant cry of alleluia to each
generation of divine miracle, created by the desire of the Blessed
Trinity to see the sparkling smile of joy of the Virgin.
God desired to put a king in the
universe that He had created out of nothing. A king, who by the
nature of matter should be the first amongst all the creatures
created with matter and endowed with matter. A king, who by nature of
the spirit should be little less than divine, united to Grace as he
was in his first innocent day. But the Supreme Mind, to Whom all the
most remote events in centuries are known, incessantly sees what was,
is and will be ; and while It contemplates the past, and observes the
present, It penetrates deeply with Its foresight into the most
distant future and knows in every detail how the last man will die.
Without confusion or discontinuity the Supreme Mind has always known
that the king created to be demigod at Its side in Heaven, heir of
the Father, would arrive adult in His Kingdom, after living in the
house of his mother -the earth, with which he was made- during his
childhood, as child of the Eternal Father for his day on earth. The
Supreme Mind has always known that man would have committed against
himself the crime of killing Grace in himself and the theft of
robbing himself of Heaven.
Why then did He create him? Certainly
many ask themselves why. Would you have preferred not to exist? Does
this day not deserve, in itself, to be lived, although so poor and
bare, and rendered harsh by your wickedness, so that you may know and
admire the infinite Beauty that the hand of God has sown in the
universe?
For whom would He have created the
stars and planets that fly like thunderbolts and arrows, furrowing
the vault of Heaven, or dash majestically in their rush of meteors,
and yet seem slow, presenting you with light and seasons, eternally
immutable and yet always mutable. They give you a new page to read on
the sky, every evening, every month, every year, as if they wished to
say: "Forget your restriction, forsake your printed matter which
is full of obscure, putrid, dirty, poisonous, false, swearing,
corrupting material and rise, at least with your eyes, to the
unlimited freedom of the firmament, make your souls bright looking at
so clear a sky. Build up a supply of light to take to your dark
prison. Read the word that we write singing our sidereal chorus,
which is more harmonious than the one drawn from a cathedral organ.
The word that we write while shining, the word that we write while
loving, because we always bear in mind Him Who gave us the joy of
existing. And we love Him for giving us our existence, our
brightness, our movement, our freedom, our beauty in the midst of the
gentle azure, beyond which we can see an even more sublime blue:
Paradise. And we fulfil the second part of His commandment of love,
by loving you, our universal neighbours, loving you by giving you
guidance and light, warmth and beauty. Read the word we say, the one
on which we modulate our singing, our brightness, our smile: God!"
For whom would He have made the blue
sea, the mirror of the sky, the way to the land, the smile of waters,
the voice of waves? The sea itself is a word that with the rustling
of silk, with the smiles of happy girls, with the sighs of old people
who remember and weep, with the clamour of violence, with clashes and
roars always speaks and says: "God". The sea is for you, as
the sky and the stars are. And with the sea, the lakes and the
rivers, the ponds and the streams, the pure springs, all of which
serve to nourish you, to quench your thirst, to clean you: and they
serve you serving their Creator, without submerging you, as you
deserve.
For whom would He have made the
countless families of animals, the beautifully coloured birds, that
fly singing, and other animals that like servants, run, work, nourish
you and succour you, their kings?
For whom would He have created the
countless families of plants and flowers that look like butterflies,
like gems and motionless birds, and the families of fruits that are
like jewels or jewels cases and are a carpet for your feet and the
trees that form shelters for your heads, a welcome relaxation and joy
to your minds, your limbs, your sight and smell?
For whom would He have made the
minerals in the bowels of the earth and the salts dissolved in cold
and boiling springs, the iodines and the bromines, unless one should
enjoy them, one who was not God, but the son of God? One: man .
The joy of God lacked nothing: God had
no need. He is sufficient in Himself. He has only to contemplate
Himself to rejoice, to nourish Himself, to live, to rest. The whole
creation has not increased by one atom His infinite joy, beauty,
life, power. He made everything for the creature that He wanted to
place as king in the work made by Him: that creature is man.
It is worth while living to see such a
work of God and to be grateful to His power that gives you the
opportunity. And you must be grateful to be alive. You should have
been grateful even if you had to wait till Doomsday to be redeemed,
because you have been prevaricators, proud, lascivious and murderers
in your First Parents and you are still so individually. Yet God
allows you to enjoy the beauty of the universe, the goodness of the
universe: and He treats you as if you were good children, who are
taught and granted everything so that their lives might be happier
and more pleasant. What you know, you know by the light of God. What
you discover, you discover through the guidance of God. In Goodness.
Other knowledge and discoveries that bear the mark of evil, come from
the Supreme Evil: Satan.
The Supreme Mind, that knows
everything, before man existed, knew that man would be a thief and
self murderer. And as the Eternal Goodness has no limits in being
good, before Guilt existed, He thought of the means to obliterate
Guilt. The means: I , the Word. The instrument to render the means an
efficient instrument: Mary . And the Virgin was created in the
sublime mind of God.
Everything was created for Me, beloved
Son of the Father. I-King should have had under my Divine Royal feet
carpets and jewels such as no royal palace had, and songs and voices
and servants and ministers around me as no sovereign ever possessed,
and flowers and gems, all the sublime, the greatness, the kindness
that may derive from the thought of a God.
But I was to be Flesh as well as
Spirit. Flesh to save the flesh. Flesh to sublime the flesh, taking
it to Heaven many centuries before its time. Because the flesh
inhabited by the spirit is God's masterpiece and Heaven had already
been made for it. In order to become flesh I needed a Mother. To be
God it was necessary that the Father was God.
Then God created His Spouse and said to
Her: "Come with Me. At My side see what I am doing for our Son.
Look and rejoice, eternal Virgin, eternal Maiden and may Your smile
fill this Empyrean and give the angels their starting note and teach
Paradise celestial harmony. I am looking at You. And I see You as You
will be, Immaculate Woman, Who are now only a spirit: the spirit in
which I rejoice. I am looking at You and I give the sea and the
firmament the blue of Your eyes, the holy corn the colour of Your
hair, whiteness to the lily and a rosy colour to the rose, like Your
silky skin. I copy the pearls from Your minute teeth, I make the
sweet strawberries watching Your mouth and I give the nightingale
Your notes and the turtle-doves Your weeping. And reading Your future
thoughts and listening to the throbs of Your heart, I have the motive
of guidance in creating. Come, My joy, have the worlds as a plaything
as long as You will be the dancing light of My thought; have the
worlds for Your smile, have wreaths and necklaces of stars; place the
moon under Your gentle feet; make Galatea Your stellar scarf. The
stars and planets are for You. Come and enjoy looking at the flowers
that will be a childish joy for Your Baby and a pillow for the Son of
Your womb. Come and see sheep and lambs, eagles and doves being
created. Stay beside Me when I make the hollows of the seas and
grooves of the rivers and I raise the mountains and I adorn them with
snow and forests. Stay here while I sow fudders and trees and vines,
and I make the olive-tree for You, My Peaceful One, and the vine for
You, My Vine branch who will bear the Eucharistic Bunch of grapes.
Run, fly, rejoice, My Beauty. And may the universe which is created
hour by hour learn from You to love Me, My Love, and may it become
more beautiful owing to Your smile, Mother of My Son, Queen of My
Paradise, Love of Your God". And again, seeing the Fault and
admiring the Faultless One: "Come to Me, You Who wipe out the
bitterness of human disobedience, of human fornication with Satan and
of human ingratitude. I will take with You My revenge over Satan".
God, the Father Creator, had created
man and woman with such a perfect law of love that you cannot even
understand its perfection any longer. And you become lost in
wondering how the human species would have come to be, if man had not
been taught by Satan how to obtain it.
Look at the fruit and seed plants. Do
they produce seed and fruit by means of fornication, by means of one
fecundation out of one hundred copulations? No. The pollen emerges
from the male flower and driven by a complex of meteoric and magnetic
laws it proceeds to the ovary of the female flower. The latter opens,
receives it and produces. It does not pollute itself and then refuse
it, as you do, to enjoy the same sensation the following day. It
produces and until the new season, it does not get pollinated and
when it does, it is only to produce.
Look at the animals. All of them. Have
you ever seen a male animal and a female one approach each other for
a sterile embrace and lascivious dealings? No. From near or far, they
fly, crawl, jump or run, they go, when it is time, to the fecundation
rite. Neither do they evade stopping at the pleasure, but they go
further, to the serious and holy consequences of the offspring, the
only reason that should cause a man, a demigod by his origin of Grace
which I have made complete, to accept the animality of the act,
necessary since you descended by one degree towards animals.
You do not act as plants and animals
do. You had as your teacher Satan. You wanted him as your teacher and
you still want him. And the works you do are what one would expect
of the teacher you wanted. Had you been faithful to God, you would
have had the joy of children, in a holy way, without pain, without
exhausting yourselves in obscene and shameful intercourses, which
even beasts are unacquainted with, although beasts are without a
reasoning and spiritual soul.
To man and woman, corrupted by Satan,
God decided to oppose the Man born of a Woman, Whom God had
super-sublimed to such an extent that She generated without knowing
man: a Flower that generates a Flower, without the need of seed, by a
unique kiss of the Sun on the inviolated chalice of the Lily-Mary.
The revenge of God!
Hiss, O Satan, your hatred while She
comes into the world! This Child has beaten you! Before you were the
Rebel, the Twister, the Corruptor, you were already beaten and She
was your Conqueror. One thousand assembled armies are of no avail
against your power, the arms of men fall before your scales, o
Perennial One, and there is no wind capable of dispersing the stench
of your breath. And yet, the heel of this Child, which is so rosy as
to look like the inside of a rosy camellia, and is so smooth and soft
that silk seems coarse in comparison, and is so small that it could
enter the chalice of a tulip and make itself a tiny shoe with that
vegetable satin, that heel is crushing your head without any fear and
relegates you to your den. And Her cry causes you to flee away,
although you are not afraid of armies. And Her breath purif ies the
world of your foul smell. You are defeated. Her name, Her look, Her
purity are a lance, a thunderbolt that pierces you and demolishes you
and imprisons you in your den in Hell, o Cursed One, who deprived God
of the joy of being the Father of all men created!
In vain you have corrupted them, who
had been created innocent, leading them to knowledge and conception
by means of the sensuousness of lust, depriving God, in His beloved
creature, of being the benefactor of the children according to rules,
which, had they been respected, would have kept a balance on earth
between sexes and races, a balance capable of averting wars between
peoples and calamities between families.
By obeying, they would have also known
love. Nay, only by obeying they would have known love and possessed
it. A complete and peaceful possession of this gift from God, Who
from the supernatural descends to the inferior, so that also the
flesh may rejoice devoutly, since it is united to the spirit and
created by Him Who created the spirit.
Now, men, what is your love, what are
your loves? Either lewdness disguised as love or an incurable fear of
losing the love of your partner through her or other people's
lewdness. You are never sure of possessing the heart of your husband
or wife, since lust entered the world. And you tremble and cry and
become overwrought with jealousy, sometimes you kill to avenge a
betrayal, sometimes you despair, and sometimes you lack will or even
become insane.
This is what you have done, Satan, to
the children of God. Those whom you have corrupted, would have known
the joy of having children without suffering any pain and would have
experienced the joy of being born without fear of dying. But now you
are beaten in a Woman and by a Woman. From now on, whoever loves Her
will become once again God's own, overcoming your temptations, to be
able to look at Her immaculate purity. From now on mothers, though
not able to conceive without pain, will find comfort in her. From now
on She will be the guide of married women and the Mother of dying
people, so that it will be sweet to die resting on that breast which
is a shield against you, you Cursed One, and against the wrath of
God.
Mary, little voice, you have seen the
birth of the Virgin's Son and the assumption of the Virgin to Heaven.
You have therefore seen that the faultless ones are unaware of the
pain in giving birth as well as of the pain in dying. But if the Most
Innocent Mother of God was granted the perfection of celestial gifts,
all those who in the First Parents had remained innocent and sons of
God, would have generated without throes as it was fair, having
conceived without lust, and they would have died without anxiety.
The sublime victory of God over Satan's
revenge was to raise the perfection of the beloved creature to a
super -perfection that should annul at least in one person all
recollection of humanity, liable to Satan's poison, so that the Son
should be generated not by a man's chaste embrace, but by a divine
embrace that causes the spirit to change colour in the ecstasy of the
Fire.
The Virgin's Virginity!...
Come. Contemplate this deep virginity
that gives ecstatic dizziness in its contemplation! What is the poor
enforced virginity of a woman that no man married? Less than nothing.
What is the virginity of a woman who wanted to be a virgin to belong
to God, but is so in her body and not in her spirit, where she allows
alien thoughts to enter and enter tains allurements of human
thoughts? It is a sham virginity. But still very little. What is the
virginity of a cloistered nun who lives only for God? Very much. But
it is never the perfect virginity when compared with My Mother's.
There has always been an association,
also in the most holy one. The original association between spirit
and fault. The one that only Baptism dissolves. It dissolves it, but
as in the case of a woman separated from her husband by his death, it
does not render virginity complete such as it was in the First
Parents before Sin. A scar remains and hurts causing one to remember
it, and it is always ready to become a sore like certain diseases
that periodically are made worse by their virus. In the Virgin there
is no sign of this dissolved association with the Fault. Her soul
appears beautiful and intact as when the Father conceived Her,
gathering all graces in Her.
She is the Virgin. She is the Only One.
She is the Perfect One. The Complete One. Conceived as such.
Generated as such. Remained such. Crowned such. Eternally such. She
is the Virgin. She is the acme of intangibility, of purity, of grace
that is lost in the Abyss from which it emerged: in God: most perfect
Intangibility, Purity, Grace.
That is the revenge of the God Trine
and One. Against creatures desecr ated He raises this Star to
perfection. Against pernicious curiosity He raises this Coy Virgin,
contented only with loving God. Against the science of evil, this
sublime Innocent Virgin. In Her there is not only no knowledge of
dejected love: there is not only non-acquaintance with the love that
God had given to married people. Much more. In Her there is the
absence of incentives, the inheritance of Sin. In Her there is only
the icy and white-hot wisdom of divine love. A fire that strengthens
the flesh with ice, so that it may be a transparent mirror at the
altar where God married a Virgin and does not lower Himself because
His perfection embraces Her perfection, which, as it becomes a bride,
is only inferior to His by one point, subject to Him as a Woman, but
without fault as He is. »
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