30. The Adoration of the Shepherds.
7th June 1944. Eve of Corpus Christi.
I am writing in the presence of my
Jesus-Master. He is here for me, all for me. He has come back, after
such a long time, all for me.
You will say: « How? You have been
hearing and seeing for almost a month and you say that He is with you
after a long time? »
I will reply once again telling you
what I have already told you several times both by word of mouth and
in writing.
There is a difference between seeing
and hearing. And above all there is a difference between seeing and
hearing on behalf of other people, and seeing and hearing all for
myself, exclusively for myself. In the former case I am a spectator
and I repeat what I see and hear, but if that gives me joy because
they are always things which bring great joy, it is also true that it
is, so to say, an external joy. The word is a bad expression of what
I feel so clearly.
But I cannot find a better one. In
brief, just imagine that my joy is like that of one who reads a
lovely book or sees a beautiful scene. One is moved, enjoys it,
admires its harmony and thinks: « How lovely it is to be in the
place of this person! » Instead in the latter case, that' is, when I
hear and see for myself, then I am « that person.- » The word that
I hear is for me, the person I see is for me. It is He and I, Mary
and I, John and I. Alive, real, true, close to each other. Not in
front of me, as if I were watching a film being shown, but beside my
bed, or moving about my room, or leaning on pieces of furniture, or
sitting, or standing, like real people alive, as my guests, which is
quite different from a vision on behalf of everybody. In a word all
that « is mine ».
And Jesus is here today, in actual fact
He has been here since Yesterday afternoon, in His usual white
woollen garment, which is rather ivory-white, and is so different in
weight and shade from the magnificent one which He wears in Heaven
and which seems to be made of immaterial linen, and is so white that
it seems to be woven with yarn as clear as light. He is here with His
long tapering fingers which are white verging to old ivory, with His
handsome long pale face in which His dominating sweet eyes of dark
sapphire shine between His thick brown eyelashes sparkling with
blond-red reflections. He is here with His long soft hair, which is
brighter blond-red where exposed to light and darker in the deep
folds. He is here! He is here! And He is smiling at me while I write
about Him. As He used to do at Viareggio… and as He stopped doing
as from the Holy Week… causing all the distress which almost became
a fever of despair, when in addition to the grief of being deprived
of Him I was also bereft of the comfort of living where at least I
had seen Him and I could say: « He used to lean there, to sit down
here, here He bent to lay His hand on my head » and where my
relatives had died.
Oh! unless one has experienced that,
one cannot understand! It is not a question of pretending to have all
that. We know very well that they are gratuitous graces and that we
do not deserve them, neither can we expect them to last when they are
granted to us. We know that. And the more they are given to us, the
more we lower ourselves in humility, acknowledging our disgusting
misery as compared with the Infinite Beauty and Divine Wealth which
bestows itself upon us. But what do you think, Father? Does a son not
wish to see his father and mother? Or a wife her husband? And when
death or a long absence prevents them from seeing their dear ones, do
they not suffer and do they not find comfort by living where they
lived, and if they have to leave that place, do they not suffer twice
as much, as they lose also the place where their love was
reciprocated by the absent relative? Can those who suffer thus be
reproached? No. And what about me? Is Jesus not my Father and Spouse?
Dearer, much dearer than the dearest father and spouse?
And that He is such to me, you can
judge by how I behaved at my mother's death. I suffered, you know? I
still weep, because I loved her, notwithstanding her character. But
you know how I got over that difficult hour. Jesus was there.
And He was dearer to me than my mother.
Shall I tell you something? I suffered and I am suffering more now
because of my mother's death, which took place eight months ago, than
I suffered then . Because during these last two months I have been
without Jesus for me and without Mary for me, and also now, if They
leave me for a moment, I feel more than ever the desolation of being
a sick orphan and I fall again into the deep human grief of those
cruel days.
I am writing while Jesus is looking at
me and therefore I am not exaggerating or distorting anything. In any
case it is not my custom, and even if it were, it would be impossible
to persist in it while He is watching me.
I have written this here, where it is
not my habit to do so, because with regard to Mary's visions I never
interpose my poor ego, as I already know that I must continue
describing Her glories. Was Her Maternity not a crown of glories
every moment? I am very ill and it is burdensome for me to write. And
afterwards I feel extremely weak. But in order to make Her known, so
that She may be loved more, I disregard everything. Are my shoulders
aching? Is my heart giving in? Am I suffering from a racking
headache? Is my temperature rising? It does not matter! Let Mary be
known, beautiful and dear as I see Her through God's kindness and
Hers, and that is enough for me.
Later I see a very wide country. The
moon is at its zenith and she is sailing smoothly in a sky crowded
with stars. They look like diamond studs fixed to a huge canopy of
dark blue velvet and the moon is smiling in the middle of them with
her big white face, from which streams of light descend and make the
earth white. The barren trees seem taller and darker against so white
a ground, whereas the low walls which rise here and there on the
boundaries, look as white as milk and a little house far away seems a
block of Carrara marble.
On my right I see a place enclosed by a
thorn-bush hedge on two sides and by a low rugged wall on the other
two. The wall supports a kind of low wide shed, which inside the
enclosure is built in masonry and part in wood, as if in summer the
wooden part should be removed and the shed should become a porch.
From the enclosure intermittent short bleatings can be heard now and
again. It must be the little sheep which dream or perhaps sense that
it is almost daybreak because of the very bright moonlight. The
brightness is intense to an excessive degree and it is increasing
more and more as if the planet were coming near the earth or were
sparkling because of a mysterious fire.
A shepherd looks out of the door, and
lifting one arm to his forehead to shield his eyes, he looks up. It
seems improbable that one should protect one's eyes from moonlight.
But the moonlight in this case is so bright that it blinds people,
particularly those who come out from a dark enclosure. Everything is
calm. But the bright moonlight is surprising. The shepherd calls his
companions. They all come to the door: a group of hairy men of
various ages. Some are just teenagers, some are already white haired,
They comment on the strange event and the younger ones are afraid.
One in particular, a boy about twelve years old, starts crying, and
the older shepherds jeer at him.
« What are you afraid of, you fool? »
the oldest man says to him. « Can't you see that the air is very
quiet? Have you never seen clear moonlight? You have always been tied
to your mother's apronstrings, haven't you? But there are many things
for you to see! Once, I had gone as far as the Lebanon mountains,
even farther. High up. I was young, and walking was a pleasure. And I
was also rich, then… one night I saw such a bright light that I
thought Elijah was about to come back in his chariot of fire. And an
old man, he was the old man then – said to me: “A great adventure
is about to take place in the world.” It was for us a misadventure,
because the Roman soldiers came. Oh! Many things you will see, if you
live long enough. »
But the little shepherd is no longer
listening to him. He looks as if he is no longer frightened, because
he leaves the threshold and steals from behind the shoulders of a
brawny herdsman, behind whom he had previously sought shelter, and
goes out on to the grassy fold in front of the shed. He looks up and
walks about like a sleep-walker or one hypnotised by something that
compellingly attracts him. At a certain moment he shouts: « Oh! »
and remains petrified with his arms slightly stretched out. His mates
look at one another dumbfounded.
« But what is the matter with the
fool? » says one.
« I will send him back to his mother
tomorrow. I don't want mad people as guardians of the sheep » says
another.
And the old man who had spoken earlier
says: « Let us go and see before we judge him. Call also the others
who are sleeping and bring your sticks. It might be a wild animal or
some robber… »
They go in, they call the other
shepherds and they come out with torches and clubs. They join the
boy.
« There, there » he whispers smiling.
« Above the tree, look at the light that is coming. It seems to be
coming on the ray of the moon. There it is, it is coming near. How
beautiful it is! »
« I can only see a rather brighter
light. »
« So can I. »
« So can I » say the others.
« No. I see something like a body »
says one whom I recognise to be the shepherd who gave the milk to
Mary.
« It is… it is an angel! » shouts
the boy. « Here he is, he is coming down, he is coming near… Down!
On your knees before the angel of God! »
A long and venerable « Oh! » comes
from the group of shepherds, who fall down face to the ground and the
older they are, the more they appear to be crushed by the refulgent
apparition. The young ones are on their knees, looking at the angel
who is coming nearer and nearer, and then he stops mid-air above the
enclosure wall, waving his large wings, a pearly brightness in the
white moonlight surrounding him.
« Do not fear. I am not bringing you
misfortune. I announce you a great joy for the people of Israel and
for all the people of the world. » The angelic voice is the harmony
of a harp and of singing nightingales.
« Today, in the City of David, the
Saviour has been born! » In saying so, the angel spreads out his
wings wider and wider, moving them as a sign of overwhelming joy, and
a stream of golden sparks and precious stones seem to fall from them:
a real rainbow describing a triumphal arch above the poor shed.
« … the Saviour, Who is Christ. »
The angel shines with a brighter light. His two wings, now
motionless, pointed upright towards the sky like two still sails on
the sapphire of the sea, seem two bright flames ascending to Heaven.
« … Christ, the Lord! » The angel
gathers his sparkling wings and covers himself with them as if they
were a coat of diamonds on a dress of pearls, he bows down in
adoration, with his arms crossed over his heart, while his head bent
down as it is, disappears in the shade of the tops of the folded
wings. Only an oblong bright motionless form can be seen for a few
moments.
But now he stirs. He spreads out his
wings, lifts his head, bright with a heavenly smile, and says: « You
will recognise Him from the following signs: in a poor stable, behind
Bethlehem, you will find a baby in swaddling clothes, in a manger for
animals, because no roof was found for the Messiah in the city of
David. » The angel becomes grave, almost sad, in saying that.
But from the Heavens many angels –
oh! how many! – come down, all like him – a ladder of angels
descending and rejoicing and dimming the moonlight with their
heavenly brightness. They all gather round the announcing angel,
fluttering their wings, exhaling perfumes, playing notes in which the
most beautiful voices of creation find a recollection, but elevated
to uniform perfection. If painting is the expression of matter to
become light, here melody is the expression of music to give men a
hint of the beauty of God. To hear this melody is to know Paradise,
where everything is harmony of love which emanates from God to make
the blessed souls happy, and then from them returns to God to say to
Him: « We love You! »
The angelical « Glory » spreads
throughout the quiet country in wider and wider circles and the
bright light with it. And the birds join their singing to greet the
early light, and the sheep add their bleatings for the early sun.
But, as previously in, the grotto for the ox and the donkey, I love
to believe that the animals are greeting their Creator, Who has come
down among them to love them both as a Man and as God.
The singing slowly fades away, as well
as the light, and the angels ascend to Heaven…
The shepherds come back to reality.
« Did you hear? »
« Shall we go and see? »
« And what about the animals? »
« Oh! Nothing will happen to them! We
are going to obey God's word!… »
« But where shall we go? »
« Didn't he say that He was born
today? And that they did not find lodgings in Bethlehem? » It's the
shepherd who gave the milk, who is speaking now. « Come with me, I
know where He is. I saw the woman and I felt sorry for Her. I told
them where to go, for Her sake, because I thought they might not find
lodgings, and I gave the man some milk for Her. She is so young and
beautiful, and She must be as good and kind as the angel who spoke to
us. Come. Let us go and get some milk, cheese, lambs and tanned
hides. They must be very poor… and I wonder how cold He must be
Whose name I dare not mention! And imagine! I spoke to the Mother as
I would have spoken to a poor wife!… »
They go into the shed and they come out
shortly afterwards, some with little flasks of milk, some with little
nets interwoven with esparto containing small whole round cheeses,
some with baskets, each containing a little bleating lamb and some
with tanned hides.
« I am taking them a sheep. She lambed
a month ago. Her milk is very good. It will be useful if the woman
should have no milk. She seemed a young girl to me and so pale! A
jasmine face in moonlight » says the shepherd who gave the milk. And
he leads them.
They set out in the moonlight aided by
their torches, after closing the shed and the enclosure. They go
along country paths, among thorn-bush hedges stripped by winter.
They go round Bethlehem. They reach the
stable not the way Mary came, but from the opposite direction, so
that they do not pass in front of the better stables, instead they
find this one first. They go near the hole.
« Go in! »
« I wouldn't dare! »
« You go in! »
« No. »
« At least have a look. »
« You, Levi, who saw the angel first,
obviously because you are better than we are, look in. » Before they
said he was mad… but now it suits them if he dare what they do not.
The boy hesitates, but then he makes up
his mind. He goes near the hole, pulls the mantle a little to one
side, looks… and remains enraptured.
« What can you see? » they ask him
anxiously in low voices.
« I can see a beautiful young woman
and a man bending over a manger and I can hear… I can hear a little
baby crying, and the woman is speaking to Him in a voice… oh! what
a voice! »
« What is She saying? »
« She is saying: “Jesus, little one!
Jesus, love of Your Mummy! Don't cry, little Son.”... She is
saying: “Oh! If I could only say to You: 'Take some milk, little
one'. But I have not got any yet.”... She says: “You are so cold,
My love! And the hay is stinging You! How painful it is for Your
Mummy to hear You crying so, without being able to help You!”...
She says: “Sleep, soul of Mine! Because it breaks My heart to hear
You crying and see Your tears!” and She kisses Him, and She must be
warming His little feet with Her hands, because She is bent with Her
arms in the manger. »
« Call Her! Let them hear you. »
« I won't. You should call Her,
because you brought us here and you know Her! »
The shepherd opens his mouth, but he
only utters a faint moaning noise.
Joseph turns round and comes to the
door. « Who are you? »
« Shepherds. We brought you some food
and some wool. We have come to worship the Saviour. »
« Come in. »
They go in, and the stable becomes
brighter because of the light of the torches. The older men push the
young ones in front of them.
Mary turns round and smiles. « Come »
She says. « Come! », and She invites them with Her hand and Her
smile, and She takes the boy who saw the angel and She draws him to
Herself, against the manger. And the boy looks, and is happy.
The others, invited also by Joseph,
move forward with their gifts and they place them at Mary's feet with
few deep-felt words. They then look at the Baby Who is weeping a
little and they smile moved and happy.
And one of them, somewhat bolder than
the rest, says: « Mother, take this wool. It's soft and clean. I
prepared it for my child who is about to be born. But I offer it to
You. Lay your Son in this wool. It will be soft and warm. » And he
offers the sheep hide, a beautiful hide, well covered with white soft
wool.
Mary lifts Jesus, and puts it round
Him. And She shows Him to the shepherds, who, kneeling on the hay on
the ground, look at Him ecstatically!
They become bolder, and one suggests: «
He should be given a mouthful of milk, better still, some water and
honey. But we have no honey. We give it to little babies. I have
seven children, and I know… »
« There is some milk here. Take it,
Woman. »
« But it is cold. It should be warm.
Where is Elias? He has the sheep. »
Elias must be the shepherd who gave the
milk. But he is not there. He remained outside and is looking from
the hole, but he cannot be seen in the dark night.
« Who led you here? »
« An angel told us to come, and Elias
showed us the way. But where is he now? » The sheep declares his
presence with a bleat.
« Come in. You are wanted. » He
enters with his sheep, embarrassed because they all look at him.
« It's you! » says Joseph, who
recognizes him, and Mary smiles at him saying: « You are good. »
They milk the sheep and with the hem of
a piece of linen dipped into the warm creamy milk, Mary moistens the
lips of the Baby Who sucks the sweet cream. They all smile, and even
more so, when Jesus falls asleep in the warmth of the wool, with the
little bit of linen still between His lips.
« But You can't stay here. It's cold
and damp. And… there is too strong a smell of animals. It's not
good… it's not good for the Saviour. »
« I know » replies Mary with a deep
sigh. « But there is no room for us in Bethlehem. »
« Take heart, Woman. We will look for
a house for You. »
« I will tell my mistress » says
Elias. « She is good. She will receive You, even if she had to give
You her own room. As soon as it is daylight, I will tell her. Her
house is full of people. But she will find room for You. »
« For My Child, at least. Joseph and I
can lie also on the floor. But for the Little One… »
« Don't worry, Woman. I will see to
it. And we will tell many people what we were told. You will lack
nothing. For the time being, take what our poverty can give You. We
are shepherds… »
« We are poor, too. And we cannot
reward you » says Joseph.
« Oh! We don't want it. Even if You
could afford it, we would not want it. The Lord has already rewarded
us. He promised peace to everybody. The angels said: “Peace to men
of good will”. But He has already given it to us, because the angel
said that this Child is the Saviour, Who is Christ, the Lord. We are
poor and ignorant, but we know that the Prophets say that the Saviour
will be the Prince of Peace. And he told us to come and adore Him.
That is why He gave us His peace. Glory be to God in the Most High
Heaven and glory to His Christ here, and You are blessed, Woman, Who
gave birth to Him: You are holy, because You deserved to bear Him!
Give us orders as our Queen, because we will be happy to serve You.
What can we do for You? »
« You can love My Son, and always
cherish the same thoughts as you have now. »
« But what about You? Is there
anything You wish? Have You no relatives whom You would like to
inform that He has been born? »
« Yes, I have them. But they are far
away. They are at Hebron… »
« I will go » says Elias. « Who are
they? »
« Zacharias, the priest, and My cousin
Elizabeth. »
« Zacharias? Oh! I know him well. In
summer I go up those mountains because the pastures are rich and
beautiful, and I am a friend of his shepherd. When I know you are
settled, I will go to Zacharias. »
« Thank you, Elias. »
« You need not thank me. It is a great
honour for me, a poor shepherd, to go and speak to the priest and say
to him: “The Saviour has been born.” »
« No. You must say to him: “Your
cousin, Mary of Nazareth, has said that Jesus has been born, and that
you should come to Bethlehem.” »
« I will say that. »
« May God reward You. I will remember
you, Elias, and every one of you. »
« Will You tell Your Baby about us? »
« I certainly will. »
« I am Elias. », « And I am Levi. »,
« And I am Samuel. », « And I Jonah. », « And I Isaac. », «
And I Tobias. », « And I Jonathan. », « And I Daniel. », « And
I Simeon. », « My name is John. », « I am Joseph and my brother
Benjamin, we are twins. »
« I will remember your names. »
« We must go… But we will come back…
And we will bring others to worship Him. »
« How can we go back to the
sheep-fold, leaving the Child? »
« Glory be to God Who has shown Him to
us! »
« Will You let us kiss His dress? »
asks Levi, with an angelic smile.
And Mary lifts Jesus slowly, and
sitting on the hay, envelops the tiny little feet in a linen, and
offers them to be kissed. And the shepherds bow down to the ground
and kiss the tiny feet, veiled by the linen. Those with a beard clean
it first; almost everyone is crying, and when they have to go, they
walk out backwards, leaving their hearts there…
The vision ends thus, with Mary sitting
on the straw with the Child on Her lap and Joseph who, leaning with
his elbow on the manger, looks and adores.
------------------
Jesus says:
Jesus says:
« I will speak today. You are very
tired, but have a little more patience. It is the eve of Corpus
Christi. I could speak to you about the Eucharist and the saints who
became apostles of Its cult, as I spoke to you of the saints who were
apostles of the Sacred Heart. But I want to speak to you of something
else and of a class of worshippers of My Body who are the forerunners
of Its cult. That is: the shepherds. They were the first worshippers
of My Body of the Word, Who had become Man.
Once I told you and also My Church says
this, the Holy Innocents are the protomartyrs of Christ. Now I
tell you that the shepherds are the first worshippers of the Body of
God. And they have all the qualifications to be the worshippers of My
Body, o Eucharistic souls.
Firm faith: they believe the angel
promptly and unquestioningly.
Generosity: they give all their wealth
to their Lord.
Humility: they approach people, who
from the human point of view, are poorer than they, and they do so
with a modest attitude that does not humiliate them, and they profess
themselves their servants.
Desire: what they are unable to offer,
they endeavor to obtain by means of charitable work.
Prompt obedience: Mary wishes to inform
Zacharias and Elias goes at once. He does not postpone the matter.
Love finally: they suffer in departing
from the grotto and you say: “They leave their hearts there.” And
you are right.
But should the same not happen with My
Sacrament?
And there is another point, and it is
entirely for you: note to whom the angel reveals himself first and
who deserves to hear Mary's love effusions. Levi: the boy. God shows
Himself to those who have a child's soul and He shows them also His
mysteries and allows them to hear His divine words and Mary's. And
those with a child's soul have also Levi's holy daring and they say:
“Let us kiss Jesus' dress.” They say that to Mary. Because it is
always Mary Who gives you Jesus. She is the Bearer of the Eucharist.
She is the Living Pyx. Who goes to Mary, finds Me. Who asks Her for
Me receives Me from Her. When a creature says to Mary: “Give me
Your Jesus that I may love Him”, My Mother's smile causes Heaven's
colors to change into a more lively brightness because of its greater
delight.
Say, therefore, to Her: “Let me kiss
Jesus' dress, let me kiss His wounds.” And dare even more: “Let
me rest my head on Your Jesus' Heart, that I may delight in It.”
Come. And rest. Like Jesus in His cradle, between Jesus and Mary. »
