The bitter Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ – Part 2

The Last Pasch.

Jesus and his disciples ate the Paschal Lamb in the supper-room. They divided into three
groups. Jesus ate the Paschal Lamb with the twelve Apostles in the supper-room, properly
so called; Nathaniel with twelve other disciples in one of the lateral rooms, and Eliacim (the
son of Cleophas and Mary, the daughter of Heli), who had been a disciple of John the
Baptist, with twelve more, in another side-room.
Three lambs were immolated for them in the Temple, but there was a fourth lamb which
was immolated in the supper-room, and was the one eaten by Jesus with his Apostles. Judas
was not aware of this circumstance, because being engaged in plotting his betrayal of our
Lord, he only returned a few moments before the repast, and after the immolation of the
lamb had taken place. Most touching was the scene of the immolation of the lamb to be
eaten by Jesus and his Apostles; it took place in the vestibule of the supper-room. The
Apostles and disciples were present, singing the 118th Psalm. Jesus spoke of a new period
then beginning, and said that the sacrifice of Moses and the figure of the Paschal Lamb were
about to receive their accomplishment, but that on this very account, the lamb was to be
immolated in the same manner as formerly in Egypt, and that they were really about to go
forth from the house of bondage.
The vessels and necessary instruments were prepared, and then the attendants brought a
beautiful little lamb, decorated with a crown, which was sent to the Blessed Virgin in the
room where she had remained with the other holy women. The lamb was fastened with its
back against a board by a cord around its body, and reminded me of Jesus tied to the pillar
and scourged. The son of Simeon held the lamb’s head; Jesus made a slight incision in its
neck with the point of a knife, which he then gave to the son of Simeon, that he might
complete killing it. Jesus appeared to inflict the wound with a feeling of repugnance, and he
was quick in his movements, although his countenance was grave, and his manner such as
to inspire respect. The blood flowed into a basin, and the attendants brought a branch of
hyssop, which Jesus dipped in it. Then he went to the door of the room, stained the sideposts
and the lock with blood, and placed the branch which had been dipped in blood above
the door. He then spoke to the disciples, and told them, among other things, that the
exterminating angel would pass by, that they would adore in that room without fear or
anxiety, when he, the true Paschal Lamb, should have been immolated—that a new epoch
and a new sacrifice were about to begin, which would last to the end of the world.
They then went to the other side of the room, near the hearth where the Ark of the
Covenant had formerly stood. Fire had already been lighted there, and Jesus poured some
blood upon the hearth, consecrating it as an altar; and the remainder of the blood and the fat
were thrown on the fire beneath the altar, after which Jesus, followed by his Apostles,
walked round the supper-room, singing some psalms, and consecrating it as a new Temple.
The doors were all closed during this time. Meanwhile the son of Simeon had completed the
preparation of the lamb. He passed a stake through its body, fastening the front legs on a
cross piece of wood; and stretching the hind ones along the stake. It bore a strong
resemblance to Jesus on the cross, and was placed in the oven, to be there roasted with the
three other lambs brought from the Temple.
The Paschal Lambs of the Jews were all immolated in the vestibule of the Temple, but in
different parts, according as the persons who were to eat them were rich, or poor, or
strangers.1 The Paschal Lamb belonging to Jesus was not immolated in the Temple, but
everything else was done strictly according to the law. Jesus again addressed his disciples,
saying that the lamb was but a figure, that he himself would next day be the true Paschal
Lamb, together with other things which I have forgotten.
When Jesus had finished his instructions concerning the Paschal Lamb and its
signification, the time being come, and Judas also returned, the tables were set out. The
disciples put on travelling dresses which were in the vestibule, different shoes, a white robe
resembling a shirt, and a cloak, which was short in front and longer behind, their sleeves
were large and turned back, and they girded up their clothes around the waist. Each party
went to their own table; and two sets of disciples in the side rooms, and our Lord and his
Apostles in the supper-room. They held staves in their hands, and went two and two to the
1 She here again explained the manner in which the families assembled together, and in what numbers. But the
writer has forgotten her words.
table, where they remained standing, each in his own place, with the stave resting on his
arms, and his hands upraised.
The table was narrow, and about half a foot higher than the knees of a man; in shape it
resembled a horseshoe, and opposite Jesus, in the inner part of the half-circle, there was a
space left vacant, that the attendants might be able to set down the dishes. As far as I can
remember, John, James the Greater, and James the Less sat on the right-hand of Jesus; after
them Bartholomew, and then, round the corner, Thomas and Judas Iscariot. Peter, Andrew,
and Thaddeus sat on the left of Jesus; next came Simon, and then (round the corner)
Matthew and Philip.
The Paschal Lamb was placed on a dish in the centre of the table. Its head rested on its
front legs, which were fastened to a cross-stick, its hind legs being stretched out, and the dish
was garnished with garlic. By the side there was a dish with the Paschal roast meat, then
came a plate with green vegetables balanced against each other, and another plate with
small bundles of bitter herbs, which had the appearance of aromatic herbs. Opposite Jesus
there was also one dish with different herbs, and a second containing a brown-coloured
sauce of beverage. The guest had before them some round loaves instead of plates, and they
used ivory knives.
After the prayer, the major-domo laid the knife for cutting the lamb on the table before
Jesus, who placed a cup of wine before him, and filled six other cups, each one of which
stood between two Apostles. Jesus blessed the wine and drank, and the Apostles drank two
together out of one cup. Then our Lord proceeded to cut up the lamb; his Apostles
presented their pieces of bread in turn, and each received his share. They ate it in haste,
separating the flesh from the bone, by means of their ivory knives, and the bones were
afterwards burnt. They also ate the garlic and green herbs in haste, dipping them in the
sauce. All this time they remained standing, only leaning slightly on the backs of their seats.
Jesus brake one of the loaves of unleavened bread, covered up a part of it, and divided the
remainder among his Apostles. Another cup of wine was brought, but Jesus drank not of it:
‘Take this,’ he said, ‘and divide it among you, for I will not drink from henceforth of the fruit of
the vine, until that day when I shall drink it with you new in the kingdom of my Father’ (Matt.
26:29). When they had drunk the wine, they sang a hymn; then Jesus prayed or taught, and
they again washed their hands. After this they sat down.
Our Lord cut up another lamb which was carried to the holy women in one of the
buildings of the court, where they were seated at table. The Apostles ate some more
vegetables and lettuce. The countenance of our Divine Saviour bore an indescribable
expression of serenity and recollection, greater than I had ever before seen. He bade the
Apostles forget all their cares. The Blessed Virgin also, as she sat at table with the other
women, looked most placid and calm. When the other women came up, and took hold of
her veil to make her turn round and speak to them, her every movement expressed the
sweetest self-control and placidity of spirit.
At first Jesus conversed lovingly and calmly with his disciples, but after a while he
became grave and sad: ‘Amen, amen, I say to you, that one of you is about to betray me:’ he said,
he that dippeth his hand with me in the dish’ (Matt. 26:21.23). Jesus was then distributing the
lettuce, of which there was only one dish, to those Apostles who were by his side, and he
had given Judas, who was nearly opposite to him, the office of distributing it to the others.
When Jesus spoke of a traitor, an expression which filled all the Apostles with fear, he said:
‘he that dippeth his hand with me in the dish,’ which means: ‘one of the twelve who are eating
and drinking with me—one of those with whom I am eating bread.’ He did not plainly point
out Judas to the others by these words; for to dip the hand in the same dish was an expression
used to signify the most friendly and intimate intercourse. He was desirous, however, to
give a warning to Judas, who was then really dipping his hand in the dish with our Saviour,
to distribute the lettuce. Jesus continued to speak: ‘The Son of Man indeed goeth,’ he said, ‘as it
is written of him: but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man shall be betrayed: It were better for
him if that man had not been born.’
The Apostles were very much troubled, and each one of them exclaimed: ‘Lord, is it I?’ for
they were all perfectly aware that they did not entirely understand his words. Peter leaned
towards John, behind Jesus, and made him a sign to ask our Lord who the traitor was to be,
for, having so often been reproved by our Lord, he trembled lest it should be himself who
was referred to. John was seated at the right hand of Jesus, and as all were leaning on their
left arms, using the right to eat, his head was close to the bosom of Jesus. He leaned then on
his breast and said: ‘Lord, who is it?’ I did not see Jesus say to him with his lips: ‘He it is to
whom I shall reach bread dipped.’ I do not know whether he whispered it to him, but John
knew it, when Jesus having dipped the bread, which was covered with lettuce, gave it
tenderly to Judas, who also asked: ‘Is it I, Lord?’ Jesus looked at him with love, and
answered him in general terms. Among the Jews, to give bread dipped was a mark of
friendship and confidence; Jesus on this occasion gave Judas the morsel, in order thus to
warn him, without making known his guilt to the others. But the heart of Judas burned with
anger, and during the whole time of the repast, I saw a frightful little figure seated at his feet,
and sometimes ascending to his heart. I did not see John repeat to Peter what he had
learned from Jesus, but he set his fears at rest by a look.

The Washing of the Feet.

They arose from table, and whilst they were arranging their clothes, as they usually did
before making their solemn prayer, the major-domo came in with two servants to take away
the table. Jesus, standing in the midst of his Apostles, spoke to them long, in a most solemn
manner. I could not repeat exactly his whole discourse, but I remember he spoke of his
kingdom, of his going to his Father, of what he would leave them now that he was about to
be taken away, etc. He also gave them some instructions concerning penance, the
confession of sin, repentance, and justification.
I felt that these instructions referred to the washing of the feet, and I saw that all the
Apostles acknowledged their sins and repented of them, with the exception of Judas. This
discourse was long and solemn. When it was concluded, Jesus sent John and James the
Less to fetch water from the vestibule, and he told the Apostles to arrange the seats in a half
circle. He went himself into the vestibule, where he girded himself with a towel. During this
time, the Apostles spoke among themselves, and began speculating as to which of them
would be the greatest, for our Lord having expressly announced that he was about to leave
them and that his kingdom was near at hand, they felt strengthened anew in their idea that
he had secret plans, and that he was referring to some earthly triumph which would be
theirs at the last moment.
Meanwhile Jesus, in the vestibule, told John to take a basin, and James a pitcher filled
with water, with which they followed him into the room, where the major-domo had placed
another empty basin.
Jesus, on returning to his disciples in so humble a manner, addressed them a few words
of reproach on the subject of the dispute which had arisen between them, and said among
other things, that he himself was their servant, and that they were to sit down, for him to
wash their feet. They sat down, therefore, in the same order as they had sat at table. Jesus
went from one to the other, poured water from the basin which John carried on the feet of
each, and then, taking the end of the towel wherewith he was girded, wiped them. Most
loving and tender was the manner of our Lord while thus humbling himself at the feet of his
Peter, when his turn came, endeavoured through humility to prevent Jesus from washing
his feet: ‘Lord,’ he exclaimed, ‘dost thou wash my feet?’ Jesus answered: ‘What I do, thou
knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.’ It appeared to me that he said to him privately:
‘Simon, thou hast merited for my Father to reveal to thee who I am, whence I come, and
whither I am going, thou alone hast expressly confessed it, therefore upon thee will I build
my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. My power will remain with thy
successors to the end of the world.’
Jesus showed him to the other Apostles, and said, that when he should be no more
present among them, Peter was to fill his place in their regard. Peter said: ‘Thou shalt never
wash my feet!’ Our Lord replied: ‘If I wash thee not, thou shalt have no part with me.’ Then Peter
exclaimed: ‘Lord, not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.’ Jesus replied: ‘He that is
washed, needeth not but to wash his feet, but is clean wholly. And you are clean, but not all.’
By these last words he referred to Judas. He had spoken of the washing of the feet as
signifying purification from daily faults, because the feet, which are continually in contact
with the earth, are also continually liable to be soiled, unless great care is taken.
This washing of the feet was spiritual, and served as a species of absolution. Peter, in his
zeal, saw nothing in it but too great an act of abasement on the part of his Master; he knew
not that to save him Jesus would the very next day humble himself even to the ignominious
death of the cross.
When Jesus washed the feet of Judas, it was in the most loving and affecting manner; he
bent his sacred face even on to the feet of the traitor; and in a low voice bade him now at
least enter into himself, for that he had been a faithless traitor for the last year. Judas
appeared to be anxious to pay no heed whatever to his words, and spoke to John, upon
which Peter became angry, and exclaimed: ‘Judas, the Master speaks to thee!’ Then Judas
made our Lord some vague, evasive reply, such as, ‘Heaven forbid, Lord!’ The others had
not remarked that Jesus was speaking to Judas, for this words were uttered in a low voice, in
order not to be heard by them, and besides, they were engaged in putting on their shoes.
Nothing in the whole course of the Passion grieved Jesus so deeply as the treason of Judas.
Jesus finally washed the feet of John and James.
He then spoke again on the subject of humility, telling them that he that was the greatest
among them was to be as their servant, and that henceforth they were to wash one another’s
feet. Then he put on his garments, and the Apostles let down their clothes, which they had
girded up before eating the Paschal Lamb.

Institution of the Holy Eucharist.

By command of our Lord, the major-domo had again laid out the table, which he had
raised a little; then, having placed it once more in the middle of the room, he stood one urn
filled with wine, and another with water underneath it. Peter and John went into the part of
the room near the hearth, to get the chalice which they had brought from Seraphia’s house,
and which was still wrapped up in its covering. They carried it between them as if they had
been carrying a tabernacle, and placed it on the table before Jesus. An oval plate stood there,
with three fine white azymous loaves, placed on a piece of linen, by the side of the half loaf
which Jesus had set aside during the Paschal meal, also a jar containing wine and water,
and three boxes, one filled with thick oil, a second with liquid oil, and the third empty.
In earlier times, it had been the practice for all at table to eat of the same loaf and drink of
the same cup at the end of the meal, thereby to express their friendship and brotherly love,
and to welcome and bid farewell to each other. I think Scripture must contain something
upon this subject.
On the day of the Last Supper, Jesus raised this custom (which had hitherto been no
more than a symbolical and figurative rite) to the dignity of the holiest of sacraments. One
of the charges brought before Caiphas, on occasion of the treason of Judas, was, that Jesus
had introduced a novelty into the Paschal ceremonies, but Nicodemus proved from
Scripture that it was an ancient practice.
Jesus was seated between Peter and John, the doors were closed, and everything was
done in the most mysterious and imposing manner. When the chalice was taken out of its
covering, Jesus prayed, and spoke to his Apostles with the utmost solemnity. I saw him
giving them an explanation of the Supper, and of the entire ceremony, and I was forcibly
reminded of a priest teaching others to say Mass.
He then drew a species of shelf with grooves from the boars on which the jars stood, and
taking a piece of white linen with which the chalice was covered, spread it over the board
and shelf. I then saw him lift a round plate, which he placed on this same shelf, off the top
of the chalice. He next took the azymous loaves from beneath the linen with which they
were covered and placed them before him on the board; then he took out of the chalice a
smaller vase, and ranged the six little glasses on each side of it. Then he blessed the bread
and also the oil, to the best of my belief after which he lifted up the paten with the loaves
upon it, in his two hands, raised his eyes, prayed, offered, and replaced the paten on the
table, covering it up again. He then took the chalice, had some wine poured into it by Peter,
and some water, which he first blessed, by John, adding to it a little more water, which he
poured into a small spoon, and after this he blessed the chalice, raised it up with a prayer,
made the oblation, and replaced it on the table.
John and Peter poured some water on his hands, which he held over the plate on which
the azymous loaves had been placed; then he took a little of the water which had been
poured on his hands, in the spoon that he had taken out of the lower part of the chalice, and
poured it on theirs. After this, the vase was passed round the table, and all the Apostles
washed their hands in it. I do not remember whether this was the precise order in which
these ceremonies were performed; all I know is, that they reminded me in a striking manner
of the holy sacrifice of the Mass.
Meanwhile, our Divine Lord became more and more tender and loving in his
demeanour; he told his Apostles that he was about to give them all that he had, namely, his
entire self, and he looked as though perfectly transformed by love. I saw him becoming
transparent, until he resembled a luminous shadow. He broke the bread into several pieces,
which he laid together on the paten, and then took a corner of the first piece and dripped it
into the chalice. At he moment when he was doing this, I seemed to see the Blessed Virgin
receiving the Holy Sacrament in a spiritual manner, although she was not present in the
supper-room. I do not know how it was done, but I thought I saw her enter without
touching the ground, and come before our Lord to receive the Holy Eucharist; after which I
saw her no more. Jesus had told her in the morning, at Bethania, that he would keep the
Pasch with her spiritually, and he had named the hour at which she was to betake herself to
prayer, in order to receive it in spirit.
Again he prayed and taught; his words came forth from his lips like fire and light, and
entered into each of the Apostles, with the exception of Judas. He took the paten with the
pieces of bread (I do not know whether he had placed it on the chalice) and said: ‘Take and
eat; this is my Body which is given for you.’ He stretched forth his right hand as if to bless, and,
whilst he did so, a brilliant light came from him, his words were luminous, the bread
entered the mouths of the Apostles as a brilliant substance, and light seemed to penetrate
and surround them all, Judas alone remaining dark. Jesus presented the bread first to Peter,
next to John and then he made a sign to Judas to approach.2 Judas was thus the third who
received the Adorable Sacrament, but the words of our Lord appeared to turn aside from the
mouth of the traitor, and come back to their Divine Author. So perturbed was I in spirit at
this sight, that my feelings cannot be described. Jesus said to him: ‘That which thou dost, do
quickly.’ He then administered the Blessed Sacrament to the other Apostles, who approached
two and two.
Jesus raised the chalice by its two handles to a level with his face, and pronounced the
words of consecration. Whilst doing so, he appeared wholly transfigured, as it were
transparent, and as though entirely passing into what he was going to give his Apostles. He
made Peter and John drink from the chalice which he held in his hand, and then placed it
again on the table. John poured the Divine Blood from the chalice into the smaller glasses,
and Peter presented them to the Apostles, two of whom drank together out of the same cup.
I think, but am not quite certain, that Judas also partook of the chalice; he did not return to
2 She was not certain that the Blessed Sacrament was administered in that order, for on another occasion she
had seen John the last to receive.
his place, but immediately left the supper-room, and the other Apostles thought that Jesus
had given him some commission to do. He left without praying or making any
thanksgiving, and hence you may perceive how sinful it is to neglect returning thanks either
after receiving our daily food, or after partaking of the Life-Giving Bread of Angels. During
the entire meal, I had seen a frightful little figure, with one foot like a dried bone, remaining
close to Judas, but when he had reached the door, I beheld three devils pressing round him;
one entered into his mouth, the second urged him on, and the third preceded him. It was
night, and they seemed to be lighting him, whilst he hurried onward like a madman.
Our Lord poured a few drops of the Precious Blood remaining in the chalice into the
little vase of which I have already spoken, and then placed his fingers over the chalice, while
Peter and John poured water and wine upon them. This done, he caused them to drink
again from the chalice, and what remained of its contents was poured into the smaller
glasses, and distributed to the other Apostles. Then Jesus wiped the chalice, put into it the
little vase containing the remainder of the Divine Blood, and placed over it the paten with
the fragments of the consecrated bread, after which he again put on the cover, wrapped up
the chalice, and stood it in he midst of the six small cups. I saw the Apostles receive in
communion these remains of the Adorable Sacrament, after the Resurrection.
I do not remember seeing our Lord himself eat and drink of the consecrated elements,
neither did I see Melchisedech, when offering the bread and wine, taste of them himself. It
was made known to me why priests partake of them, although Jesus did not.
Here Sister Emmerich looked suddenly up, and appeared to be listening. Some
explanation was given her on this subject, but the following words were all that she could
repeat to us: ‘If the office of distributing it had been given to angels, they would not have
partaken, but if priests did not partake, the Blessed Eucharist would be lost—it is through
their participation that it is preserved.’
There was an indescribable solemnity and order in all the actions of Jesus during the
institution of the Holy Eucharist, and his every movement was most majestic. I saw the
Apostles noting things down in the little rolls of parchment which they carried on their
persons. Several times during the ceremonies I remarked that they bowed to each other, in
the same way that our priests do.

Private Instruction and Consecrations.

Jesus gave his Apostles some private instructions; he told them how they were to
preserve the Blessed Sacrament in memory of him, even to the end of the world; he taught
them the necessary forms for making use of and communicating it, and in what manner
they were, by degrees, to teach and publish this mystery; finally he told them when they
were to receive what remained of the consecrated Elements, when to give some to the
Blessed Virgin, and how to consecrate, themselves, after he should have sent them the
Divine Comforter. He then spoke concerning the priesthood, the sacred unction, and the
preparation of the Chrism and Holy Oils.3 He had there three boxes, two of which
contained a mixture of oil and balm. He taught them how to make this mixture, what parts
of the body were to be anointed with them, and upon what occasions. I remember, among
other things, that he mentioned a case in which the Holy Eucharist could not be
administered; perhaps what he said had reference to Extreme Unction, for my recollections
on this point are not very clear. He spoke of different kinds of anointing, and in particular of
that of kings, and he said that even wicked kings who were anointed, derived from it
especial powers. He put ointment and oil in the empty box, and mixed them together, but I
cannot say for certain whether it was at this moment, or at the time of the consecration of
the bread, that he blessed the oil.
I then saw Jesus anoint Peter and John, on whose hands he had already poured the water
which had flowed on his own, and two whom he had given to drink out of the chalice. Then
he laid his hands on their shoulders and heads, while they, on their part, joined their hands
and crossed their thumbs, bowing down profoundly before him—I am not sure whether
they did not even kneel. He anointed the thumb and fore-finger of each of their hands, and
marked a cross on their heads with Chrism. He said also that this would remain with them
unto the end of the world.
James the Less, Andrew, James the Greater, and Bartholomew, were also consecrated. I
saw likewise that on Peter’s bosom he crossed a sort of stole worn round the neck, whilst on
the others he simply placed it crosswise, from the right shoulder to the left side. I do not
know whether this was done at the time of the institution of the Blessed Sacrament, or only
for the anointing.
I understood that Jesus communicated to them by this unction something essential and
supernatural, beyond my power to describe. He told them that when they should have
received the Holy Spirit they were to consecrate the bread and wine, and anoint the other
Apostles. It was made known to me then that, on the day of Pentecost, Peter and John
imposed their hands upon the other Apostles, and a week later upon several of the disciples.
After the Resurrection, John gave the Adorable Sacrament for the first time to the Blessed
Virgin. It is a festival no longer kept in the Church on earth, but I see it celebrated in the
Church triumphant. For the first few days after Pentecost I saw only Peter and John
consecrate the Blessed Eucharist, but after that the others also consecrated.
Our Lord next proceeded to bless fire in a brass vessel, and care was taken that it should
not go out, but it was kept near the spot where the Blessed Sacrament gad been deposited, in
one division of the ancient Paschal hearth, and fire was always taken from it when needed
for spiritual purposes.
3 It was not without surprise that the editor, some years after these things had been related by Sister Emmerich,
read, in the Latin edition of the Roman Catechism (Mayence, Muller), in reference to the Sacrament of
Confirmation, that, according to the tradition of the holy pope Fabian, Jesus taught his Apostles in what
manner they were to prepare the Holy Chrism, after the institution of the Blessed Sacrament. The Pope says
expressly, in the 54th paragraph of his Second Epistle to the Bishops of the East: ‘Our predecessors received
from the Apostles and delivered to us that our Saviour Jesus Christ, after having made the Last Supper with
his Apostles and washed their feet, taught them how to prepare the Holy Chrism.’
All that Jesus did upon this occasion was done in private, and taught equally in private.
The Church has retained all that was essential of these secret instructions, and, under the
inspiration of the Holy Ghost, developed and adapted them to all her requirements.
Whether Peter and John were both consecrated bishops, or Peter alone as bishop and
John as priest, or to what dignity the other four Apostles were raised, I cannot pretend to
say. But the different ways in which our Lord arranged the Apostles’ stoles appear to
indicate different degrees of consecration.
When these holy ceremonies were concluded, the chalice (near which the blessed Chrism
also stood) was re-covered, and the Adorable Sacrament carried by Peter and John into the
back part of the room, which was divided off by a curtain, and from thenceforth became the
Sanctuary. The spot where the Blessed Sacrament was deposited was not very far above the
Paschal stove. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus took care of the Sanctuary and of the
supper-room during the absence of the Apostles.
Jesus again instructed his Apostles for a considerable length of time, and also prayed
several times. He frequently appeared to be conversing with his Heavenly Father, and to be
overflowing with enthusiasm and love. The Apostles also were full of joy and zeal, and
asked him various questions which he forthwith answered. The scriptures must contain
much of this last discourse and conversation. He told Peter and John different things to be
made known later to the other Apostles, who in their turn were to communicate them to the
disciples and holy women, according to the capacity of each for such knowledge. He had a
private conversation with John, whom he told that his life would be longer than the lives of
the others. He spoke to him also concerning seven Churches, some crowns and angels, and
instructed him in the meaning of certain mysterious figures, which signified, to the best of
my belief, different epochs. The other Apostles were slightly jealous of this confidential
communication being made to John.
Jesus spoke also of the traitor. ‘Now he is doing this or that,’ he said, and I, in fact, saw
Judas doing exactly as he said of him. As Peter was vehemently protesting that he would
always remain faithful, our Lord said to him: ‘Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have
you that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not: and thou being
once converted, confirm thy brethren.’
Again, our Lord, said, that whither he was going they could not follow him, when Peter
exclaimed: ‘Lord, I am ready to go with thee both into prison and to death.’ And Jesus replied:
‘Amen, amen, I say to thee, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice.’
Jesus, while making known to his Apostles that trying times were at hand for them, said:
‘When I sent you without purse, or scrip, or shoes, did you want anything?’ They answered:
‘Nothing.’ ‘But now,’ he continued, ‘he that hath a purse let him take it, and likewise a scrip, and he
that hath not, let him sell his coat and buy a sword. For I say to you, that this that is written must yet
be fulfilled in me: AND WITH THE WICKED WAS HE RECKONED. For the things
concerning me have an end.’ The Apostles only understood his words in a carnal sense, and
Peter showed him two swords, which were short and thick, like cleavers. Jesus said: ‘It is
enough: let us go hence.’ Then they sang the thanksgiving hymn, put the table on one side,
and went into the vestibule.
There, Jesus found his Mother, Mary of Cleophas, and Magdalen, who earnestly
besought him not to go to Mount Olivet, for a report has spread that his enemies were
seeking to lay hands on him. But Jesus comforted them in few words, and hastened
onward—it being then about nine o’clock. They went down the road by which Peter and
John had come to the supper-room, and directed their steps towards Mount Olivet.
I have always seen the Pasch and the institution of the Blessed Sacrament take place in
the order related above. But my feelings were each time so strongly excited and my emotion
so great, that I could not give much attention to all the details, but now I have seen them
more distinctly. No words can describe how painful and exhausting is such a sight as that of
beholding the hidden recesses of hearts, the love and constancy of our Saviour, and to know
at the same time all that is going to befall him. How would it be possible to observe all that
is merely external! The heart is overflowing with admiration, gratitude, and love—the
blindness of men seems perfectly incomprehensible—and the soul is overwhelmed with
sorrow at the thought of the ingratitude of the whole world, and of her own sins!
The eating of the Paschal Lamb was performed by Jesus rapidly, and in entire conformity
with all the legal ordinances. The Pharisees were in the habit of adding some minute and
superstitious ceremonies.

“If thou knowest not how to meditate on high and heavenly things, rest on the Passion of Christ, and
willingly dwell in his sacred wounds. For, if thou fly devoutly to the wounds and precious stigmas of Jesus,
thou shalt feel great comfort in tribulation.” —Imitation of Christ, book 2, chapter 1.
On the evening of the 18th of February, 1823, a friend of Sister Emmerich went up to the
bed, where she was lying apparently asleep; and being much struck by the beautiful and
mournful expression of her countenance, felt himself inwardly inspired to raise his heart
fervently to God, and offer the Passion of Christ to the Eternal Father, in union with the
sufferings of all those who have carried their cross after him. While making this short
prayer, he chanced to fix his eyes for a moment upon the stigmatised hands of Sister
Emmerich. She immediately hid them under the counterpane, starting as if someone had
given her a blow. He felt surprised at this, and asked her, ‘What has happened to you?’
‘Many things,’ she answered in an expressive tone. Whilst he was considering what her
meaning could be, she appeared to be asleep. At the end of about a quarter of an hour, she
suddenly started up with all the eagerness of a person having a violent struggle with another,
stretched out both her arms, clenching her hand, as if to repel an enemy standing on the left
side of her bed, and exclaimed in an indignant voice: ‘What do you mean by this contract of
Magdalum?’ Then she continued to speak with the warmth of a person who is being
questioned during a quarrel—‘Yes, it is that accursed spirit—the liar from the beginning—
Satan, who is reproaching him about the Magdalum contract, and other things of the same
nature, and says that he spent all that money upon himself.’ When asked, ‘Who has spent
money? Who is being spoken to in that way?’ she replied, ‘Jesus, my adorable Spouse, on
Mount Olivet.’ Then she again turned to the left, with menacing gestures, and exclaimed,
‘What meanest thou, O father of lies, with thy Magdalum contract? Did he not deliver
twenty-seven poor prisoners at Thirza, with the money derived from the sale of Magdalum?
I saw him, and thou darest to say that he has brought confusion into the whole estate,
driven out its inhabitants, and squandered the money for which it was sold? But thy time is
come, accursed spirit! Thou wilt be chained, and his heel will crush thy head.’
Here she was interrupted by the entrance of another person; her friends thought that she
was in delirium, and pitied her. The following morning she owned that the previous night
she had imagined herself to be following our Saviour to the Garden of Olives, after the
institution of the Blessed Eucharist, but that just at that moment someone having looked at
the stigmas on her hands with a degree of veneration, she felt so horrified at this being done
in the presence of our Lord, that she hastily hid them, with a feeling of pain. She then
related her vision of what took place in the Garden of Olives, and as she continued her
narrations the following days, the friend who was listening to her was enabled to connect
the different scenes of the Passion together. But as, during Lent, she was also celebrating the
combats of our Lord with Satan in the desert, she had to endure in her own person many
sufferings and temptations. Hence there were a few pauses in the history of the Passion,
which were, however, easily filled up by means of some later communications.
She usually spoke in common German, but when in a state of ecstasy, her language
became much purer, and her narrations partook at once of child-like simplicity and dignified
inspiration. Her friend wrote down all that she had said, directly he returned to his own
apartments; for it was seldom that he could so much as even take notes in her presence. The
Giver of all good gifts bestowed upon him memory, zeal, and strength to bear much trouble
and fatigue, so that he has been enabled to bring this work to a conclusion. His conscience
tells him that he has done his best, and he humbly begs the reader, if satisfied with the result
of his labours, to bestow upon him the alms of an occasional prayer.

Jesus in the Garden of Olives.

When Jesus left the supper-room with the eleven Apostles, after the institution of the
Adorable Sacrament of the Altar, his soul was deeply oppressed and his sorrow on the
increase. He led the eleven, by an unfrequented path, to the Valley of Josaphat. As they left
the house, I saw the moon, which was not yet quite at the full, rising in front of the
Our Divine Lord; as he wandered with his Apostles about the valley, told them that here
he should one day return to judge the world, but not in a state of poverty and humiliation,
as he then was, and that men would tremble with fear, and cry: ‘Mountains, fall upon us!’ His
disciples did not understand him, and thought, by no means for the first time that night, that
weakness and exhaustion had affected his brain. He said to them again: ‘All you shall be
scandalised in me this night. For it is written: I WILL STRIKE THE SHEPHERD, AND THE
SHEEP OF THE FLOCK SHALL BE DISPERSED. But after I shall be risen again, I will go
before you into Galilee.’
The Apostles were still in some degree animated by the spirit of enthusiasm and devotion
with which their reception of the Blessed Sacrament and the solemn and affecting words of
Jesus had inspired them. They eagerly crowded round him, and expressed their love in a
thousand different ways, earnestly protesting that they would never abandon him. But as
Jesus continued to talk in the same strain, Peter exclaimed: ‘Although all shall be scandalised in
thee, I will never be scandalised!’ and our Lord answered him: ‘Amen, I say to thee, that in this
night, before the cock crow, thou wilt deny me thrice.’ But Peter still insisted, saying: ‘Yea, though I
should die with thee, I will not deny thee.’ And the others all said the same. They walked
onward and stopped, by turns, for the sadness of our Divine Lord continued to increase.
The Apostles tried to comfort him by human arguments, assuring him that what he foresaw
would not come to pass. They tired themselves in these vain efforts, began to doubt, and
were assailed by temptation.
They crossed the brook Cedron, not by the bridge where, a few hours later, Jesus was
taken prisoner, but by another, for they had left the direct road. Gethsemani, whither they
were going, was about a mile and a half distant from the supper-hall, for it was three
quarters of a mile from the supper-hall to the Valley of Josaphat, and about as far from
thence to Gethsemani. The place called Gethsemani (where latterly Jesus had several times
passed the night with his disciples) was a large garden, surrounded by a hedge, and
containing only some fruit trees and flowers, while outside there stood a few deserted
unclosed buildings.
The Apostles and several others persons had keys of this garden, which was used
sometimes as a pleasure ground, and sometimes as a place of retirement for prayer. Some
arbours made of leaves and branches had been raised there, and eight of the Apostles
remained in them, and were later joined by others of the disciples. The Garden of Olives
was separated by a road from that of Gethsemani, and was open, surrounded only by an
earthern wall, and smaller than the Garden of Gethsemani. There were caverns, terraces,
and many olive-trees to be seen in this garden, and it was easy to find there a suitable spot
for prayer and meditation. It was to the wildest part that Jesus went to pray.
It was about nine o’clock when Jesus reached Gethsemani with his disciples. The moon
had risen, and already gave light in the sky, although the earth was still dark. Jesus was
most sorrowful, and told his Apostles that danger was at hand. The disciples felt uneasy,
and he told eight of those who were following him, to remain in the Garden of Gethsemani
whilst he went on to pray. He took with him Peter, James, and John, and going on a little
further, entered into the Garden of Olives. No words can describe the sorrow which then
oppressed his soul, for the time of trial was near. John asked him how it was that he, who
had hitherto always consoled them, would now be so dejected? ‘My soul is sorrowful even unto
death,’ was his reply. And he beheld sufferings and temptations surrounding him on all
sides, and drawing nearer and nearer, under the forms of frightful figures borne on clouds.
Then it was that he said to the three Apostles: ‘Stay you here and watch with me. Pray, lest ye
enter into temptation.’ Jesus went a few steps to the left, down a hill, and concealed himself
beneath a rock, in a grotto about six feet deep, while the Apostles remained in a species of
hollow above. The earth sank gradually the further you entered this grotto, and the plants
which were hanging from the rock screened its interior like a curtain from persons outside.
When Jesus left his disciples, I saw a number of frightful figures surrounding him in an
ever-narrowing circle.
His sorrow and anguish of soul continued to increase, and he was trembling all over
when he entered the grotto to pray, like a wayworn traveller hurriedly seeking shelter from a
sudden storm, but the awful visions pursued him even there, and became more and more
clear and distinct. Alas! this small cavern appeared to contain the awful picture of all the
sins which had been or were to be committed from the fall of Adam to the end of the world,
and of the punishment which they deserved. It was here, on Mount Olivet, that Adam and
Eve took refuge when drive out of Paradise to wander homeless on earth, and they had wept
and bewailed themselves in this very grotto.
I felt that Jesus, in delivering himself up to Divine Justice in satisfaction for the sins of
the world, caused his divinity to return, in some sort, into the bosom of the Holy Trinity,
concentrated himself, so to speak, in his pure, loving and innocent humanity, and strong
only in his ineffable love, gave it up to anguish and suffering.
He fell on his face, overwhelmed with unspeakable sorrow, and all the sins of the world
displayed themselves before him, under countless forms and in all their real deformity. He
took them all upon himself, and in his prayer offered his own adorable Person to the justice
of his Heavenly Father, in payment for so awful a debt. But Satan, who was enthroned amid
all these horrors, and even filled with diabolical joy at the sight of them, let loose his fury
against Jesus, and displayed before the eyes of his soul increasingly awful visions, at the
same time addressing his adorable humanity in words such as these: ‘Takest thou even this
sin upon thyself? Art thou willing to bear its penalty? Art thou prepared to satisfy for all
these sins?’
And now a long ray of light, like a luminous path in the air descended from Heaven; it
was a procession of angels who came up to Jesus and strengthened and re-invigorated him.
The remainder of the grotto was filled with frightful visions of our crimes; Jesus took them
all upon himself, but that adorable Heart, which was so filled with the most perfect love for
God and man, was flooded with anguish, and overwhelmed beneath the weight of so many
abominable crimes. When this huge mass of iniquities, like the waves of a fathomless ocean,
has passed over his soul, Satan brought forward innumerable temptations, as he had
formerly done in the desert, even daring to adduce various accusations against him. ‘And
takest thou all these things upon thyself,’ he exclaimed, ‘thou who art not unspotted
thyself?’ then he laid to the charge of our Lord, with infernal impudence, a host of
imaginary crimes. He reproached him with the faults of his disciples, the scandals which
they had caused, and the disturbances which he had occasioned in the world by giving up
ancient customs. No Pharisee, however wily and severe, could have surpassed Satan on this
occasion; he reproached Jesus with having been the cause of the massacre of the Innocents,
as well as of the sufferings of his parents in Egypt, with not having saved John the Baptist
from death, with having brought disunion into families, protected men of despicable
character, refused to cure various sick persons, injured the inhabitants of Gergesa by
permitting men possessed by the devil to overturn their vats,4 and demons to make swine
cast themselves into the sea; with having deserted his family, and squandered the property
of others; in one word Satan, in the hopes of causing Jesus to waver, suggested to him every
thought by which he would have tempted at the hour of death an ordinary mortal who
might have performed all these actions without a superhuman intention; for it was hidden
from him that Jesus was the Son of God, and he tempted him only as the most just of men.
Our Divine Saviour permitted his humanity thus to preponderate over his divinity, for he
was pleased to endure even those temptations with which holy souls are assailed at the hour
of death concerning the merit of their good works. That he might drink the chalice of
suffering even to the dregs, he permitted the evil spirit to tempt his sacred humanity, as he
would have tempted a man who should wish to attribute to his good works some special
value in themselves, over and above what they might have by their union with the merits of
our Saviour. There was not an action out of which he did not contrive to frame some
accusation, and he reproached Jesus, among other things, with having spent the price of the
property of Mary Magdalen at Magdalum, which he had received from Lazarus.
Among the sins of the world which Jesus took upon himself, I saw also my own; and a
stream, in which I distinctly beheld each of my faults, appeared to flow towards me from
out of the temptations with which he was encircled. During this time my eyes were fixed
upon my Heavenly Spouse; with him I wept and prayed, and with him I turned towards the
consoling angels. Ah, truly did our dear Lord writhe like a worm beneath the weight of his
anguish and sufferings!
Whilst Satan was pouring forth his accusations against Jesus, it was with difficulty that I
could restrain my indignation, but when he spoke of the sale of Magdalen’s property, I
could no longer keep silence, and exclaimed: ‘How canst thou reproach him with the sale of
this property as with a crime? Did I not myself see our Lord spend the sum which was given
him by Lazarus in works of mercy, and deliver twenty-eight debtors imprisoned at Thirza?’
At first Jesus looked calm, as he kneeled down and prayed, but after a time his soul
became terrified at the sight of the innumerable crimes of men, and of their ingratitude
towards God, and his anguish was so great that the trembled and shuddered as he
exclaimed: ‘Father, if it is possible, let this chalice pass from me! Father, all things are possible to thee,
remove this chalice from me!’ But the next moment he added: ‘Nevertheless, not my will but thine
be done.’ His will and that of his Father were one, but now that his love had ordained that he
should be left to all the weakness of his human nature, he trembled at the prospect of death.
I saw the cavern in which he was kneeling filled with frightful figures; I saw all the sins,
wickedness, vices, and ingratitude of mankind torturing and crushing him to the earth; the
horror of death and terror which he felt as man at the sight of the expiatory sufferings about
to come upon him, surrounded and assailed his Divine Person under the forms of hideous
spectres. He fell from side to side, clasping his hands; his body was covered with a cold
sweat, and he trembled and shuddered. He then arose, but his knees were shaking and
apparently scarcely able to support him; his countenance was pale, and quite altered in
4 On the 11th of December 1812, in her visions of the public life of Jesus, she saw our Lord permit the devils
whom he had expelled from the men of Gergesa to enter into a herd of swine, she also saw, on this particular
occasion that the possessed men first overturned a large vat filled with some fermented liquid.
appearance, his lips white, and his hair standing on end. It was about half-past ten o’clock
when he arose from his knees, and, bathed in a cold sweat, directed his trembling, weak
footsteps towards his three Apostles. With difficulty did he ascend the left side of the cavern,
and reach a spot where the ground was level, and where they were sleeping, exhausted with
fatigue, sorrow and anxiety. He came to them, like a man overwhelmed with bitter sorrow,
whom terror urges to seek his friends, but like also to a good shepherd, who, when warned
of the approach of danger, hastens to visit his flock, the safety of which is threatened; for he
well knew that they also were being tried by suffering and temptation. The terrible visions
never left him, even while he was thus seeking his disciples. When he found that they were
asleep, he clasped his hands and fell down on his knees beside them, overcome with sorrow
and anxiety, and said: ’Simon, sleepest thou?’ They awoke, and raised him up, and he, in his
desolation of spirit, said to them: ‘What? Could you not watch one hour with me?’ When they
looked at him, and saw him pale and exhausted, scarcely able to support himself, bathed in
sweat, trembling and shuddering,—when they heard how changed and almost inaudible his
voice had become, they did not know what to think, and had he not been still surrounded by
a well-known halo of light, they would never have recognised him as Jesus. John said to
him: ‘Master, what has befallen thee? Must I call the other disciples? Ought we to take to
flight?’ Jesus answered him: ‘Were I to live, teach, and perform miracles for thirty-three
years longer, that would not suffice for the accomplishment of what must be fulfilled before
this time tomorrow. Call not the eight; I did not bring them hither, because they could not
see me thus agonising without being scandalised; they would yield to temptation, forget
much of the past, and lose their confidence in me. But you, who have seen the Son of Man
transfigured, may also see him under a cloud, and in dereliction of spirit; nevertheless, watch
and pray, lest ye fall into temptation, for the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’
By these words he sought at once to encourage them to persevere, and to make known to
them the combat which his human nature was sustaining against death, together with the
cause of his weakness. In his overwhelming sorrow, he remained with them nearly a quarter
of an hour, and spoke to them again. He then returned to the grotto, his mental sufferings
being still on the increase, while his disciples, on their part, stretched forth their hands
towards him, wept, and embraced each other, asking, ‘What can it be? What is happening
to him? He appears to be in a state of complete desolation.’ After this, they covered their
heads, and began to pray, sorrowfully and anxiously.
About an hour and a half had passed since Jesus entered the Garden of Olives. It is true
that Scripture tells us he said, ‘Could you not watch one hour with me?’ but his words should not
be taken literally, nor according to our way of counting time. The three Apostles who were
with Jesus had prayed at first, but then they had fallen asleep, for temptation had come
upon them by reason of their want of trust in God. The other eight, who had remained
outside the garden, did not sleep, for our Lord’s last words, so expressive of suffering and
sadness, had filled their hearts with sinister forebodings, and they wandered about Mount
Olivet, trying to find some place of refuge in case of danger.
The town of Jerusalem was very quiet; the Jews were in their houses, engaged in
preparing for the feast, but I saw, here and there, some of the friends and disciples of Jesus
walking to and fro, with anxious countenances, conversing earnestly together, and evidently
expecting some great event. The Mother of our Lord, Magdalen, Martha, Mary of
Cleophas, Mary Salome, and Salome had gone from the supper-hall to the house of Mary,
the mother of Mark. Mary was alarmed at the reports which were spreading, and wished to
return to the town with her friends, in order to hear something of Jesus. Lazarus,
Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and some relations from Hebron, came to see and
endeavour to tranquillise her, for as they were aware, either from their own knowledge or
from what the disciples had told them, of the mournful predictions which Jesus had made in
the supper-room, they had made inquiries of some Pharisees of their acquaintance, and had
not been able to hear that any conspiracy was on foot for the time against our Lord. Being
utterly ignorant of the treason of Judas, they assured Mary that the danger could not yet be
very great, and that the enemies of Jesus would not make any attempt upon his person, at
least until the festival was over. Mary told them how restless and disturbed in mind Judas
had latterly appeared, and how abruptly he had left the supper-room. She felt no doubt of
his having gone to betray our Lord, for she had often warned him that he was a son of
perdition. The holy women then returned to the house of Mary, the mother of Mark
When Jesus, unrelieved of all the weight of his sufferings, returned to the grotto, he fell
prostrate, with his face on the ground and his arms extended, and prayed to his Eternal
Father; but his soul had to sustain a second interior combat, which lasted three-quarters of
an hour. Angels came and showed him, in a series of visions, all the sufferings that he was
to endure in order to expiate sin; how great was the beauty of man, the image of God,
before the fall, and how that beauty was changed and obliterated when sin entered the
world. He beheld how all sins originated in that of Adam, the signification and essence of
concupiscence, its terrible effect on the powers of the soul, and likewise the signification and
essence of all the sufferings entailed by concupiscence. They showed him the satisfaction
which he would have to offer to Divine Justice, and how it would consist of a degree of
suffering in his soul and body which would comprehend all the sufferings due to the
concupiscence of all mankind, since the debt of the whole human race had to be paid by that
humanity which alone was sinless—the humanity of the Son of God. The angels showed
him all these things under different forms, and I felt what they were saying, although I heard
no voice. No tongue can describe what anguish and what horror overwhelmed the soul of
Jesus at the sight of so terrible an expiation—his sufferings were so great, indeed, that a
bloody sweat issued forth from all the pores of this sacred body.
Whilst the adorable humanity of Christ was thus crushed to the earth beneath this awful
weight of suffering, the angels appeared filled with compassion; there was a pause, and I
perceived that they were earnestly desiring to console him, and praying to that effect before
the throne of God. For one instant there appeared to be, as it were, a struggle between the
mercy and justice of God and that love which was sacrificing itself. I was permitted to see
an image of God, not, as before, seated on a throne, but under a luminous form. I beheld
the divine nature of the Son in the Person of the Father, and, as it were, withdrawn in his
bosom; the Person of the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father and the Son, it was, so to
speak, between them, and yet the whole formed only one God—but these things are
All this was more an inward perception than a vision under distinct forms, and it
appeared to me that the Divine Will of our Lord withdrew in some sort into the Eternal
Father, in order to permit all those sufferings which his human will besought his Father to
spare him, to weigh upon his humanity alone. I saw this at the time when the angels, filled
with compassion, were desiring to console Jesus, who, in fact, was slightly relieved at that
moment. Then all disappeared, and the angels retired from our Lord, whose soul was about
to sustain fresh assaults.
When our Redeemer, on Mount Olivet, was pleased to experience and overcome that
violent repugnance of human nature to suffering and death which constitutes a portion of all
sufferings, the tempter was permitted to do to him what he does to all men who desire to
sacrifice themselves in a holy cause. In the first portion of the agony, Satan displayed before
the eyes of our Lord the enormity of that debt of sin which he was going to pay, and was
even bold and malicious enough to seek faults in the very works of our Saviour himself. In
the second agony, Jesus beheld, to its fullest extent and in all its bitterness, the expiatory
suffering which would be required to satisfy Divine Justice. This was displayed to him by
angels; for it belongs not to Satan to show that expiation is possible, and the father of lies
and despair never exhibits the works of Divine Mercy before men. Jesus having victoriously
resisted all these assaults by his entire and absolute submission to the will of his Heavenly
Father, a succession of new and terrifying visions were presented before his eyes, and that
feeling of doubt and anxiety which a man on the point of making some great sacrifice
always experiences, arose in the soul of our Lord, as he asked himself the tremendous
question: ‘And what good will result from this sacrifice?’ Then a most awful picture of the
future was displayed before his eyes and overwhelmed his tender heart with anguish.
When God had created the first Adam, he cast a deep sleep upon him, opened his side,
and took one of his ribs, of which he made Eve, his wife and the mother of all the living.
Then he brought her to Adam, who exclaimed: ‘This now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my
flesh… Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be
two in one flesh.’ That was the marriage of which it is written: ‘This is a great Sacrament. I speak
in Christ and in the Church.’ Jesus Christ, the second Adam, was pleased also to let sleep
come upon him—the sleep of death on the cross, and he was also pleased to let his side be
opened, in order that the second Eve, his virgin Spouse, the Church, the mother of all the
living, might be formed from it. It was his will to give her the blood of redemption, the
water of purification, and his spirit—the three which render testimony on earth—and to
bestow upon her also the holy Sacraments, in order that she might be pure, holy, and
undefiled; he was to be her head, and we were to be her members, under submission to the
head, the bone of his bones, and the flesh of his flesh. In taking human nature, that he might
suffer death for us, he had also left his Eternal Father, to cleave to his Spouse, the Church,
and he became one flesh with her, by feeding her with the Adorable Sacrament of the Altar,
in which he unites himself unceasingly with us. He had been pleased to remain on earth
with his Church, until we shall all be united together by him within her fold, and he has
said: ‘The gates of hell shall never prevail against her.’ To satisfy his unspeakable love for sinners,
our Lord had become man and a brother of these same sinners, that so he might take upon
himself the punishment due to all their crimes. He had contemplated with deep sorrow the
greatness of this debt and the unspeakable sufferings by which it was to be acquitted. Yet he
had most joyfully given himself up to the will of his Heavenly Father as a victim of
expiation. Now, however, he beheld all the future sufferings, combats, and wounds of his
heavenly Spouse; in one word, he beheld the ingratitude of men.
The soul of Jesus beheld all the future sufferings of his Apostles, disciples, and friends;
after which he saw the primitive Church, numbering but few souls in her fold at first, and
then in proportion as her numbers increased, disturbed by heresies and schisms breaking out
among her children, who repeated the sin of Adam by pride and disobedience. He saw the
tepidity, malice and corruption of an infinite number of Christians, the lies and deceptions
of proud teachers, all the sacrileges of wicked priests, the fatal consequences of each sin, and
the abomination of desolation in the kingdom of God, in the sanctuary of those ungrateful
human beings whom he was about to redeem with his blood at the cost of unspeakable
The scandals of all ages, down to the present day and even to the end of the world—
every species of error, deception, mad fanaticism, obstinacy and malice—were displayed
before his eyes, and he beheld, as it were floating before him, all the apostates, heresiarchs,
and pretended reformers, who deceive men by an appearance of sanctity. The corrupters
and the corrupted of all ages outraged and tormented him for not having been crucified after
their fashion, or for not having suffered precisely as they settled or imagined he should have
done. They vied with each other in tearing the seamless robe of his Church; many illtreated,
insulted, and denied him, and many turned contemptuously away, shaking their
heads at him, avoiding his compassionate embrace, and hurrying on to the abyss where they
were finally swallowed up. He saw countless numbers of other men who did not dare
openly to deny him, but who passed on in disgust at the sight of the wounds of his Church,
as the Levite passed by the poor man who had fallen among robbers. Like unto cowardly
and faithless children, who desert their mother in the middle of the night, at the sight of the
thieves and robbers to whom their negligence or their malice has opened the door, they fled
from his wounded Spouse. He beheld all these men, sometimes separated from the True
Vine, and taking their rest amid the wild fruit trees, sometimes like lost sheep, left to the
mercy of the wolves, led by base hirelings into bad pasturages, and refusing to enter the fold
of the Good Shepherd who gave his life for his sheep. They were wandering homeless in the
desert in the midst of the sand blown about by the wind, and were obstinately determined
not to see his City placed upon a hill, which could not be hidden, the House of his Spouse,
his Church built upon a rock, and with which he had promised to remain to the end of ages.
They built upon the sand wretched tenements, which they were continually pulling down
and rebuilding, but in which there was neither altar nor sacrifice; they had weathercocks on
their roofs, and their doctrines changed with the wind, consequently they were for ever in
opposition one with the other. They never could come to a mutual understanding, and were
forever unsettled, often destroying their own dwellings and hurling the fragments against the
Corner-Stone of the Church, which always remained unshaken.
As there was nothing but darkness in the dwelling of these men, many among them,
instead of directing their steps towards the Candle placed on the Candlestick in the House of
the Spouse of Christ, wandered with closed eyes around the gardens of the Church,
sustaining life only by inhaling the sweet odours which were diffused from them far and
near, stretching forth their hands towards shadowy idols, and following wandering stars
which led them to wells where there was no water. Even when on the very brink of the
precipice, they refused to listen to the voice of the Spouse calling them, and, though dying
with hunger, derided, insulted, and mocked at those servants and messengers who were sent
to invite them to the Nuptial Feast. They obstinately refused to enter the garden, because
they feared the thorns of the hedge, although they had neither wheat with which to satisfy
their hunger nor wine to quench their thirst, but were simply intoxicated with pride and selfesteem,
and being blinded by their own false lights, persisted in asserting that the Church of
the Word made flesh was invisible. Jesus beheld them all, he wept over them, and was
pleased to suffer for all those who do not see him and who will not carry their crosses after
him in his City built upon a hill—his Church founded upon a rock, to which he has given
himself in the Holy Eucharist, and against which the gates of Hell will never prevail.
Bearing a prominent place in these mournful visions which were beheld by the soul of
Jesus, I saw Satan, who dragged away and strangled a multitude of men redeemed by the
blood of Christ and sanctified by the unction of his Sacrament. Our Divine Saviour beheld
with bitterest anguish the ingratitude and corruption of the Christians of the first and of all
succeeding ages, even to the end of the world, and during the whole of this time the voice of
the tempter was incessantly repeating: ‘Canst thou resolve to suffer for such ungrateful
reprobates?’ while the various apparitions succeeded each other with intense rapidity, and so
violently weighed down and crushed the soul of Jesus, that his sacred humanity was
overwhelmed with unspeakable anguish. Jesus—the Anointed of the Lord—the Son of Man
struggled and writhed as he fell on his knees, with clasped hands, as it were annihilated
beneath the weight of his suffering. So violent was the struggle which then took place
between his human will and his repugnance to suffer so much for such an ungrateful race,
that from every pore of his sacred body there burst forth large drops of blood, which fell
trickling on to the ground. In his bitter agony, he looked around, as though seeking help,
and appeared to take Heaven, earth, and the stars of the firmament to witness of his
Jesus, in his anguish of spirit, raised his voice, and gave utterance to several cries of pain.
The three Apostles awoke, listened, and were desirous of approaching him, but Peter
detained James and John, saying: ‘Stay you here; I will join him.’ Then I saw Peter hastily
run forward and enter the grotto. ‘Master,’ he exclaimed, ‘what has befallen thee?’ But at
the sight of Jesus, thus bathed in his own blood, and sinking to the ground beneath the
weight of mortal fear and anguish, he drew back, and paused for a moment, overcome with
terror. Jesus made him no answer, and appeared unconscious of his presence. Peter returned
to the other two, and told them that the Lord had not answered him except by groans and
sighs. They became more and more sorrowful after this, covered their heads, and sat down
to weep and pray.
I then returned to my Heavenly Spouse in his most bitter agony. The frightful visions of
the future ingratitude of the men whose debt to Divine Justice he was taking upon himself,
continued to become more and more vivid and tremendous. Several times I heard him
exclaim: ‘O my Father, can I possibly suffer for so ungrateful a race? O my Father, if this
chalice may not pass from me, but I must drink it, thy will be done!’
Amid all these apparitions, Satan held a conspicuous place, under various forms, which
represented different species of sins. Sometimes he appeared under the form of a gigantic
black figure, sometimes under those of a tiger, a fox, a wolf, a dragon, or a serpent. Not,
however, that he really took any of these shapes, but merely some one of their
characteristics, joined with other hideous forms. None of these frightful apparitions entirely
resembled any creature, but were symbols of abomination, discord, contradiction, and sin—
in one word, were demoniacal to the fullest extent. These diabolical figures urged on,
dragged, and tore to pieces, before the very eyes of Jesus, countless numbers of those men
for whose redemption he was entering upon the painful way of the Cross. At first I but
seldom saw the serpent: soon, however, it made its appearance, with a crown upon its head.
This odious reptile was of gigantic size, apparently possessed of unbounded strength, and
led forward countless legions of the enemies of Jesus in every age and of every nation. Being
armed with all kinds of destructive weapons, they sometimes tore one another in pieces, and
then renewed their attacks upon our Saviour with redoubled rage. It was indeed an awful
sight; for they heaped upon him the most fearful outrages, cursing, striking, wounding, and
tearing him in pieces. Their weapons, swords, and spears flew about in the air, crossing and
recrossing continually in all directions, like the flails of threshers in an immense barn; and
the rage of each of these fiends seemed exclusively directed against Jesus—that grain of
heavenly wheat descended to the earth to die there, in order to feed men eternally with the
Bread of Life.
Thus exposed to the fury of these hellish bands, some of which appeared to me wholly
composed of blind men, Jesus was as much wounded and bruised as if their blows had been
real. I saw him stagger from side to side, sometimes raising himself up, and sometimes
falling again, while the serpent, in the midst of the crowds whom it was unceasingly leading
forward against Jesus, struck the ground with its tail, and tore to pieces or swallowed all
whom it thus knocked to the ground.
It was made known to me that these apparitions were all those persons who in divers
ways insult and outrage Jesus, really and truly present in the Holy Sacrament. I recognised
among them all those who in any way profane the Blessed Eucharist. I beheld with horror
all the outrages thus offered to our Lord, whether by neglect, irreverence, and omission of
what was due to him; by open contempt, abuse, and the most awful sacrileges; by the
worship of worldly idols; by spiritual darkness and false knowledge; or, finally, by error,
incredulity, fanaticism, hatred, and open persecution. Among these men I saw many who
were blind, paralysed, deaf, and dumb, and even children;—blind men who would not see
the truth; paralytic men who would not advance, according to its directions, on the road
leading to eternal live; deaf men who refused to listen to its warnings and threats; dumb
men who would never use their voices in its defence; and, finally, children who were led
astray by following parents and teachers filled with the love of the world and forgetfulness of
God, who were fed on earthly luxuries, drunk with false wisdom, and loathing all that
pertained to religion. Among the latter, the sight of whom grieved me especially, because
Jesus so loved children, I saw many irreverent, ill-behaved acolytes, who did not honour our
Lord in the holy ceremonies in which they took a part. I beheld with terror that many
priests, some of whom even fancied themselves full of faith and piety, also outraged Jesus in
the Adorable Sacrament. I saw many who believed and taught the doctrine of the Real
Presence, but did not sufficiently take it to heart, for they forgot and neglected the palace,
throne, and seat of the Living God, that is to say, the church, the altar, the tabernacle, the
chalice, the monstrance, the vases and ornaments; in one word, all that is used in his
worship, or to adorn his house.
Entire neglect reigned everywhere, all things were left to moulder away in dust and filth,
and the worship of God was, if not inwardly profaned, at least outwardly dishonoured. Nor
did this arise from real poverty, but from indifference, sloth, preoccupation of mind about
vain earthly concerns, and often also from egotism and spiritual death; for I saw neglect of
this kind in churches the pastors and congregations of which were rich, or at east tolerably
well off. I saw many others in which worldly, tasteless, unsuitable ornaments had replaced
the magnificent adornments of a more pious age.
I saw that often the poorest of men were better lodged in their cottages than the Master of
heaven and earth in his churches. Ah, how deeply did the inhospitality of men grieve Jesus,
who had given himself to them to be their Food! Truly, there is no need to be rich in order
to receive him who rewards a hundredfold the glass of cold water given to the thirsty; but
how shameful is not our conduct when in giving drink to the Divine Lord, who thirst for
our souls, we give him corrupted water in a filthy glass! In consequence of all this neglect, I
saw the weak scandalised, the Adorable Sacrament profaned, the churches deserted, and the
priests despised. This state of impurity and negligence extended even to the souls of the
faithful, who left the tabernacle of their hearts unprepared and uncleansed when Jesus was
about to enter them, exactly the same as they left his tabernacle on the altar.
Were I to speak for an entire year, I would never detail all the insults offered to Jesus in
the Adorable Sacrament which were made known to me in this way. I saw their authors
assault Jesus in bands, and strike him with different arms, corresponding to their various
offences. I saw irreverent Christians of all ages, careless or sacrilegious priests, crowds of
tepid and unworthy communicants, wicked soldiers profaning the sacred vessels, and
servants of the devil making use of the Holy Eucharist in the frightful mysteries of hellish
worship. Among these bands I saw a great number of theologians, who had been drawn into
heresy by their sins, attacking Jesus in the Holy Sacrament of his Church, and snatching out
of his Heart, by their seductive words and promises, a number of souls for whom he had
shed his blood. Ah! it was indeed an awful sight, for I saw the Church as the body of Christ;
and all these bands of men, who were separating themselves from the Church, mangled and
tore off whole pieces of his living flesh. Alas! he looked at them in the most touching
manner, and lamented that they should thus cause their own eternal loss. He had given his
own divine Self to us for our Food in the Holy Sacrament, in order to unite in one body—
that of the Church, his Spouse—men who were to an infinite extent divided and separated
from each other; and now he beheld himself torn and rent in twain in that very body; for his
principal work of love, the Holy Communion, in which men should have been made wholly
one, was become, by the malice of false teachers, the subject of separation. I beheld whole
nations thus snatched out of his bosom, and deprived of any participation in the treasure of
graces left to the Church. Finally, I saw all who were separated from the Church plunged
into the depths of infidelity, superstition, heresy, and false worldly philosophy; and they
gave vent to their fierce rage by joining together in large bodies to attack the Church, being
urged on by the serpent which was disporting itself in the midst of them. Alas! it was as
though Jesus himself had been torn in a thousand pieces!
So great was my horror and terror, that my Heavenly Spouse appeared to me, and
mercifully placed his hand upon my heart, saying: ‘No one has yet seen all these things, and
thy heart would burst with sorrow if I did not give thee strength.’
I saw the blood flowing in large drops down the pale face of our Saviour, his hair matted
together, and his beard bloody and entangled. After the vision which I have last described,
he fled, so to speak, out of the cave, and returned to his disciples. But he tottered as he
walked; his appearance was that of a man covered with wounds and bending beneath a
heavy burden, and he stumbled at every step.
When he came up to the three Apostles, they were not lying down asleep as they had
been the first time, but their heads were covered, and they had sunk down on their knees, in
an attitude often assumed by the people of that country when in sorrow or desiring to pray.
They had fallen asleep, overpowered by grief and fatigue. Jesus, trembling and groaning,
drew nigh to them, and they awoke.
But when, by the light of the moon, they saw him standing before them, his face pale and
bloody, and his hair in disorder, their weary eyes did not at the first moment recognise him,
for he was indescribably changed. He clasped his hands together, upon which they arose
and lovingly supported him in their arms, and he told them in sorrowful accents that the
next day he should be put to death,—that in one hour’s time he should be seized, led before
a tribunal, maltreated, outraged, scourged, and finally put to a most cruel death. He
besought them to console his Mother, and also Magdalen. They made no reply, for they
knew not what to say, so greatly had his appearance and language alarmed them, and they
even thought his mind must be wandering. When he desired to return to the grotto, he had
not strength to walk. I saw John and James lead him back, and return when he had entered
the grotto. It was then about a quarter-past eleven.
During this agony of Jesus, I saw the Blessed Virgin also overwhelmed with sorrow and
anguish of soul, in the house of Mary, the mother of Mark. She was with Magdalen and
Mary in the garden belonging to the house, and almost prostrate from grief, with her whole
body bowed down as she knelt. She fainted several times, for she beheld in spirit different
portions of the agony of Jesus. She had sent some messengers to make inquiries concerning
him, but her deep anxiety would not suffer her to await their return, and she went with
Magdalen and Salome as far as the Valley of Josaphat. She walked along with her head
veiled, and her arms frequently stretched forth towards Mount Olivet; for she beheld in
spirit Jesus bathed in a bloody sweat, and her gestures were as though she wished with her
extended hands to wipe the face of her Son. I saw these interior movements of her soul
towards Jesus, who thought of her, and turned his eyes in her direction, as if to seek her
assistance. I beheld the spiritual communication which they had with each other, under the
form of rays passing to and fro between them. Our Divine Lord thought also of Magdalen,
was touched by her distress, and therefore recommended his Apostles to console her; for he
knew that her love for his adorable Person was greater than that felt for him by any one save
his Blessed Mother, and he foresaw that she would suffer much for his sake, and never
offend him more.
About this time, the eight Apostles returned to the arbour of Gethsemani, and after
talking together for some time, ended by going to sleep. They were wavering, discouraged,
and sorely tempted. They had each been seeking for a place of refuge in case of danger, and
they anxiously asked one another, ‘What shall we do when they have put him to death? We
have left all to follow him; we are poor and the offscouring of the world, we gave ourselves
up entirely to his service, and now he is so sorrowful and so defected himself, that he can
afford us no consolation.’ The other disciples had at first wandered about in various
directions, but then, having heard something concerning the awful prophecies which Jesus
had made, they had nearly all retired to Bethphage.
I saw Jesus still praying in the grotto, struggling against the repugnance to suffering
which belonged to human nature, and abandoning himself wholly to the will of this Eternal
Father. Here the abyss opened before him, and he had a vision of the first part of Limbo. He
saw Adam and Eve, the patriarchs, prophets, and just men, the parents of his Mother, and
John the Baptist, awaiting his arrival in the lower world with such intense longing, that the
sight strengthened and gave fresh courage to his loving heart. His death was to open Heaven
to these captives,—his death was to deliver them out of that prison in which they were
languishing in eager hope! When Jesus had, with deep emotion, looked upon these saints of
antiquity, angels presented to him all the bands of saints of future ages, who, joining their
labours to the merits of his Passion, were, through him, to be united to his Heavenly Father.
Most beautiful and consoling was this vision, in which he beheld the salvation and
sanctification flowing forth in ceaseless streams from the fountain of redemption opened by
his death.
The Apostles, disciples, virgins, and holy women, the martyrs, confessors, hermits,
popes, and bishops, and large bands of religious of both sexes—in one word, the entire army
of the blessed—appeared before him. All bore on their heads triumphal crowns, and the
flowers of their crowns differed in form, in colour, in odour, and in perfection, according to
the difference of the sufferings, labours and victories which had procured them eternal glory.
Their whole life, and all their actions, merits, and power, as well as all the glory of their
triumph, came solely from their union with the merits of Jesus Christ.
The reciprocal influence exercised by these saints upon each other, and the manner in
which they all drank from one sole Fountain—the Adorable Sacrament and the Passion of
our Lord—formed a most touching and wonderful spectacle. Nothing about them was
devoid of deep meaning,—their works, martyrdom, victories, appearance, and dress,—all,
though indescribably varied, was confused together in infinite harmony and unity; and this
unity in diversity was produced by the rays of one single Sun, by the Passion of the Lord, of
the Word made flesh, in whom was life, the light of men, which shined in darkness, and the
darkness did not comprehend it.
The army of the future saints passed before the soul of our Lord, which was thus placed
between the desiring patriarchs, and the triumphant band of the future blessed, and these
two armies joining together, and completing one another, so to speak, surrounded the
loving Heart of our Saviour as with a crown of victory. This most affecting and consoling
spectacle bestowed a degree of strength and comfort upon the soul of Jesus. Ah! He so loved
his brethren and creatures that, to accomplish the redemption of one single soul, he would
have accepted with joy all the sufferings to which he was now devoting himself. As these
visions referred to the future, they were diffused to a certain height in the air.
But these consoling visions faded away, and the angels displayed before him the scenes of
his Passion quite close to the earth, because it was near at hand. I beheld every scene
distinctly portrayed, from the kiss of Judas to the last words of Jesus on the cross, and I saw
in this single vision all that I see in my meditations on the Passion. The treason of Judas, the
flight of the disciples, the insults which were offered our Lord before Annas and Caiphas,
Peter’s denial, the tribunal of Pilate, Herod’s mockery, the scourging and crowning with
thorns, the condemnation to death, the carrying of the cross, the linen cloth presented by
Veronica, the crucifixion, the insults of the Pharisees, the sorrows of Mary, of Magdalen,
and of John, the wound of the lance in his side, after death;—in one word, every part of the
Passion was shown to him in the minutest detail. He accepted all voluntarily, submitting to
everything for the love of man. He saw also and felt the sufferings endured at that moment
by his Mother, whose interior union with his agony was so entire that she had fainted in the
arms of her two friends.
When the visions of the Passion were concluded, Jesus fell on his face like one at the
point of death; the angels disappeared, and the bloody sweat became more copious, so that I
saw it had soaked his garment. Entire darkness reigned in the cavern, when I beheld an
angel descent to Jesus. This angel was of higher stature than any whom I had before beheld,
and his form was also more distinct and more resembling that of a man. He was clothed like
a priest in a long floating garment, and bore before him, in his hands, a small vase, in shape
resembling the chalice used at the Last Supper. At the top of this chalice, there was a small
oval body, about the size of a bean, and which diffused a reddish light. The angel, without
touching the earth with his feet, stretched forth his right hand to Jesus, who arose, when he
placed the mysterious food in his mouth, and gave him to drink from the luminous chalice.
Then he disappeared.
Jesus having freely accepted the chalice of his sufferings, and received new strength,
remained some minutes longer in the grotto, absorbed in calm meditation, and returning
thanks to his Heavenly Father. He was still in deep affliction of spirit, but supernaturally
comforted to such a degree as to be able to go to his disciples without tottering as he walked,
or bending beneath the weight of his sufferings. His countenance was still pale and altered,
but his step was firm and determined. He had wiped his face with a linen cloth, and rearranged
his hair, which hung about his shoulders, matted together and damp with blood.
When Jesus came to his disciples, they were lying, as before, against the wall of the
terrace, asleep, and with their heads covered. Our Lord told them that then was not the time
for sleep, but that they should arise and pray: ‘Behold the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man
shall be betrayed into the hand of sinners,’ he said: ‘Arise, let us go, behold he is at hand that will
betray me. It were better for him, if that man had not been born.’ The Apostles arose in much
alarm, and looked round with anxiety. When they had somewhat recovered themselves,
Peter said warmly: ‘Lord, I will call the others, that so we may defend thee.’ But Jesus
pointed out to them at some distance in the valley, on the other side of the Brook of Cedron,
a band of armed men, who were advancing with torches, and he said that one of their
number had betrayed him. He spoke calmly, exhorted them to console his Mother, and said:
‘Let us go to meet them—I shall deliver myself up without resistance into the hands of my
enemies.’ He then left the Garden of Olives with the three Apostles, and went to meet the
archers on the road which led from that garden to Gethsemani.
When the Blessed Virgin, under the care of Magdalen and Salome, recovered her senses,
some disciples, who had seen the soldiers approaching, conducted her back to the house of
Mary, the mother of Mark. The archers took a shorter road than that which Jesus followed
when he left the supper-room.
The grotto in which Jesus had this day prayed was not the one where he usually prayed
on Mount Olivet. He commonly went to a cabin at a greater distance off, where, one day,
after having cursed the barren fig-tree, he had prayed in great affliction of spirit, with his
arms stretched out, and leaning against a rock.
The traces of his body and hands remained impressed on the stone, and were honoured
later. But it was not known on what occasion the miracle had taken place. I have several
times seen similar impressions left upon the stone, either by the Prophets of the Old
Testament, or by Jesus, Mary, or some of the Apostles, and I have also seen those made by
the body of St. Catherine on Mount Sinai. These impressions do not seem deep, but
resemble what would be made upon a thick piece of dough, if a person leaned his hand
upon it.