EIGHTEENTH HOUR

My Jesus, insatiable Love, I see that You give Yourself no respite. I hear Your desire for love and Your pain. Your Heart pounds, and with every beat I hear explosions, torments, and bursts of love. Unable to control the fire that consumes You, You lose Your breath, You moan and sigh. And with every moan I hear You say, „The Cross!” Every drop of Your Blood repeats: „The Cross!” All Your pains, in which You swim as in a boundless sea, repeat among themselves: „The Cross!” And You cry out: O beloved and longed-for Cross, only You will save my children, so I focus all my Love on You!

The second crowning with thorns

Meanwhile, your enemies bring you back to the Praetorium and take off your red cloak to dress you in your robes again. But, oh, what pain! It would be more bearable for me to die than to see you suffer so... The cloak catches on the crown and they cannot remove it, so with unprecedented cruelty they tear everything off together, both the cloak and the crown. With a cruel tug, many thorns break and remain stuck in Your Most Holy Head. Blood flows in streams, and Your pain is so great that You moan. But your enemies, paying no attention to your torture, clothe you again in the robe, put the crown back on your head, and force it down on your head, causing the thorns to reach your eyes and ears. And there is no place left on your Most Holy Head that does not feel the prick of these thorns... Your pain is so great that you stagger under these cruel hands, trembling from head to toe. You are almost dying amid these terrible torments. With eyes clouded and filled with blood, you look at me with difficulty and ask me for help in such great pain...

My Jesus, King of Sorrows, let me hold you and embrace you to my heart. I would like to take the fire that consumes you to turn your enemies into ashes and save you. But You do not want this, because Your longing for the Cross is becoming more intense. On this Cross, You want to sacrifice Yourself immediately, even for Your own enemies...

But when I hold you close to my heart, you hold me close to yours and say to me: My daughter, let me pour out my love. Make reparation with me for those who, while doing good, cover me with shame. These Jews clothe Me in My own garments to compromise Me even more before the people and convince them that I am a criminal. The act of clothing Me was seemingly good, but in reality it was evil... Ah, how many perform good deeds, administer the sacraments, or receive them with human, even evil intentions! But good done badly brings hardness of heart. And I want to be crowned a second time, enduring more severe suffering than the first time, in order to break this hardness of heart and draw them to myself with my thorns... Ah, my daughter, this second crowning is even more painful for Me. I feel as if my head were floating in thorns, and with every movement I make, or with every thrust they give Me, I suffer many cruel deaths... In this way, I am making amends for the evil intention of insulting Me. I am making reparation for those who, regardless of the state of their souls, instead of thinking about their own sanctification, concern themselves with unnecessary things and reject My grace, thus inflicting even more painful thorns on Me. Meanwhile, I am forced to groan, weep bloody tears, and hunger for their salvation. Ah, I do everything to love them, and they do everything to offend Me! At least you, do not leave Me alone in My pain and atonement.

Jesus embraces the Cross

My tormented Goodness, I compensate with You and suffer with You, but I see that Your enemies are throwing You down the stairs. The angry crowd is eagerly waiting for You. They have already prepared for You the Cross that You await with great longing. You look at it with love and approach it with a confident step to embrace it. But first you kiss it, and when a shiver of satisfaction runs through your Most Holy Humanity, you look at it again with the greatest joy and measure its length and width... You establish in Him a portion for all creatures, a suitable dowry to bind them to Divinity with the bond of marriage and restore to them the inheritance of the Kingdom of Heaven. And then, unable to contain the love with which you love them, you kiss the Cross again and say to Him: Glorious Cross, at last I embrace You! You were the longing of my Heart, the torment of my Love. But You, O Cross, have delayed until today, while my steps have always been directed toward You. Holy Cross, You were the goal of my desires, the goal of my life here on earth. In You I focus my whole Being. In You I place all my children. You will be their life and light, their defense, protection, and strength. You will support them in everything and bring them to Me, to Heaven, in glory... O Cross, Cathedral of Wisdom, only You will teach true holiness, only You will shape heroes, strong men, martyrs, and saints. Wonderful Cross, you are my Throne, and because I must leave this earth, you will remain in my place. I give you all souls as your dowry. Guard and save them for me, I entrust them to you.

You utter these words and eagerly place the cross on your shoulders... Ah, my Jesus, this cross is too light for Your Love, but added to the weight of this cross are all our sins, as vast and unfathomable as the expanse of the heavens. You, my exhausted Goodness, feel overwhelmed by the weight of so many sins. Your Soul is terrified at the sight of them, and You feel the pain of each sin. Your Holiness is shaken by such great ugliness. And as the cross sinks onto Your shoulders, You stagger and lose Your breath, and deadly sweat pours from Your Most Holy Humanity.

Jesus, my Love, I do not have the heart to leave You alone. I want to share the burden of the cross with You. And to free You from the burden of sins, I embrace Your feet. On behalf of all creatures, I want to give You love for those who do not love You, glory for those who despise You, and blessings, thanksgiving, and obedience for all... For every insult you receive, I intend to offer you my whole being as reparation. With my actions, I want to counteract the insults you suffer from creatures and comfort you with kisses and constant acts of love. But I see that I am too miserable. I need You to give You true reparation. Therefore, I join myself to Your Most Holy Humanity and, together with You, I join my thoughts to Yours to make reparation for my evil thoughts and for the evil thoughts of everyone. I join my eyes to yours to make amends for evil looks. I join my lips to yours to make amends for blasphemies and evil conversations. I join my heart to yours to make amends for evil inclinations, evil desires, and evil feelings... In a word, I want to give You the same reparation that Your Most Holy Humanity gives, and to join in Your boundless Love for everyone and in the immense good that You give to everyone. But I am not yet satisfied. I want to join Your Divinity to dispel my nothingness in It and thus give You everything...

The painful road to Calvary

My patient Jesus, I see that you are taking your first steps under the enormous weight of the cross. I join my steps with yours, and when you, weak, losing much blood and staggering, are close to falling, I will be at your side to support you. I will put my arms under the cross to share its weight with You. Do not despise me, but accept me as Your faithful companion.

Oh Jesus, you look at me and I see that you reward those who do not bear their crosses with submission. On the contrary, they curse, they get angry, they commit suicide and murder. But you ask for everyone to love their cross and accept it. But your pain is so great that you feel crushed by the weight of the cross...

You take your first steps and already you fall beneath it. And when you fall, you hit the rocks. The thorns dig deeper into your head, and all your wounds enlarge and bleed even more. And because you don't have the strength to get up, your angry enemies try to get you on your feet with kicks and shoves. My Love, who has been knocked to the ground, let me help you up, kiss you, cleanse you of blood, and together with you, make amends for those who sin because of ignorance, instability, and weakness. I ask you to provide help to these souls. My life, Jesus, your enemies, inflicting unspeakable suffering on you, put you back on your feet. And as you walk with unsteady steps, I hear your heavy breathing. Your Heart beats faster and faster, and new pains pierce it intensely... You shake your head to remove the blood flooding your eyes, and you look with concern... Ah, my Jesus, I understand everything. It is your Mother who, like a dove full of sorrow, is looking for you, wants to say her last words to you and receive your last glance. You feel her pain, and in your Heart you feel her torn Heart, moved and wounded by her and your Love... You see her pushing through the crowd, wanting at all costs to see you, embrace you, and say goodbye to you one last time. But you are even more wounded when you see her deathly pallor and all your pains recreated in her by the power of love... If she is alive, it is only because of the miracle of your omnipotence.

You direct your steps toward her, but you can barely exchange glances... Oh, the anguish of these two hearts! The soldiers notice this and, pushing and shoving, prevent the final farewell between Mother and Son. The pain of both is so great that your Mother is petrified with grief and almost dies. Faithful John and pious women support her as you fall again under the cross... Your Sorrowful Mother does with her soul what she cannot do with her body, because she has been forbidden to do so. She enters into you, makes the Will of the Eternal Father her own, and, uniting herself with you in all your sufferings, exercises the office of Mother toward you. She kisses you, makes reparation for you, soothes your pain, and pours the balm of her sorrowful love into all your wounds.

My suffering Jesus, I too join my wounded Mother. I make all your sufferings my own, and in every drop of your Blood and in every wound, I want to be a Mother to you. Together with her and with You, I offer reparation for all dangerous encounters and for those who expose themselves to sin or who, forced to expose themselves, become enslaved by sin.

Meanwhile, you moan, lying beneath the Cross. The soldiers fear that you may die under the weight of so much torment and from the loss of so much blood. Nevertheless, with whips and kicks, they manage to get you back on your feet... In this way, you make amends for repeated falls into sin and for the grave sins committed by all groups of people. You pray for hardened sinners and weep bloody tears for their conversion.

My tormented Love, as I follow You in reparation, I see that You cannot bear the enormous weight of the cross. You are trembling all over. The thorns dig even deeper into Your Most Holy Head because of the constant blows You receive. The cross, because of its enormous weight, digs into your shoulder, causing such a deep wound that it exposes the bone... With every step, it seems that you are dying and cannot go on, but your Love, which can do anything, gives you strength. And when you feel the Cross digging into your shoulder, you make reparation for the hidden sins which, because they are not atoned for, increase the cruelty of your Passion. My Jesus, let me put my shoulder under the cross to bring you relief, and I will make up for all hidden sins together with you.

And because your enemies fear that you may die under the Cross, they force the Cyrenian to help you carry it. He, reluctantly and complaining, helps you, not out of love, but out of compulsion. Your Heart then echoes with all the complaints of those who suffer, their lack of submission, their rebellion, their anger, and their contempt in suffering. But you are even more deeply wounded when you see that the souls devoted to you, the souls you call as companions and helpers in your suffering, are fleeing from you. And if, through suffering, you draw them to yourself, ah, they themselves free themselves from your arms to seek pleasure. In this way, they leave you alone in your suffering. My Jesus, while I make reparation with You, I ask You to hold me in Your arms, and so tightly that there is no suffering that You endure in which I also do not participate, so that I may transform myself into these souls and make reparation to You for being abandoned by all creatures.

My exhausted Jesus, you are all hunched over and move with difficulty. But I see that you are stopping and looking around. My heart, what is it? What would you like? Ah, it is Veronica, who, fearing nothing, boldly wipes your face, covered with blood, with a cloth. And you leave a mark of your satisfaction on the cloth... My generous Jesus, I also want to dry you, and not with a cloth, but with my whole being I want to support you. I want to penetrate your interior and give you, O Jesus, a heartbeat for a heartbeat, a breath for a breath, a feeling for a feeling, a desire for a desire. I immerse myself in Your Most Holy Mind and, rolling all these heartbeats, breaths, feelings, and desires in the immensity of Your Will, I want to multiply them infinitely... O my Jesus, I want to create waves of heartbeats so that no evil beat will be reflected in Your Heart, and in this way I will be able to alleviate all Your inner bitterness. I want to create waves of feelings and desires to drive away all evil feelings and desires that could sadden Your Heart in the slightest. I want to create waves of breaths and thoughts to drive away any breath or any thought that could cause You even the slightest grief. I will stand guard, O Jesus, so that nothing else can upset you and add new bitterness to your sorrow... O Jesus, make my whole being float in the immensity of yours. In this way, I will gain enough of Your Love and Your Will to keep out the evil love and evil will that could cause You grief.

Meanwhile, your enemies, misinterpreting Veronica's act, beat you, push you, and force you to move... A few more steps and you stop again, but your Love does not cease under the weight of so much pain. And seeing the pious women who are grieving over your suffering, you forget yourself and comfort them, saying to them: Daughters, do not weep over my pain, but over your sins and over your children...

What a sublime lesson! How sweet are your words! O Jesus, together with you, I make up for my lack of love and ask you for the grace to forget myself and remember only you.

But your enemies, hearing you speak, fly into a rage. They pull at your ropes and push you with such fury that you fall. And when you fall, you strike the stones. The weight of the cross is torture for you, and you feel that you are dying. Let me support you and protect your Most Holy Face with my hands! ... I see that you are touching the ground [with your face], and your mouth is filling with blood. But your enemies want to put you on your feet. They pull you by ropes, lift you by your hair, and kick you, but all in vain... You are dying, my Jesus! What pain! My heart is breaking with pain! And almost dragging You, they lead You to Calvary. As they pull You along, I hear You making reparation for all the insults committed by souls consecrated to You, who impose such a heavy burden on You that no matter how hard You try to lift it, You cannot. Dragged and trampled upon, you arrive at Calvary, leaving behind red traces of your precious Blood.

Jesus stripped naked and crowned with thorns for the third time

But here new sufferings await you. They strip you naked again and tear off your robe and crown of thorns. Ah, you groan as you feel the thorns being torn from your head. And as they strip you of your robe, they also tear away the pieces of your Body that are torn and stuck to it... The wounds open, Blood flows in streams onto the ground, and the pain is so great that you fall down almost dead. But you do not arouse compassion in anyone, my Goodness. On the contrary, with beastly fury, they put the crown of thorns back on you, pressing it down very hard, and the pain from the tearing of your wounds and the pulling out of your hair full of clotted blood is so great that only the angels are able to say what you are suffering. But they, terrified, turn away their heavenly gaze and weep... My naked Jesus, let me hold You close to my heart to warm You, for I see that You are trembling and that cold and deadly sweat has appeared on Your Most Holy Humanity... How I would love to give You my life and my blood to replace Yours, which You lost to give me Life!

Meanwhile, Jesus, as if looking at me with his misty and dying eyes, seems to say to me: My daughter, how much souls cost me! This is the place where I await everyone to save them, and where I want to make amends for the sins of those who fall below the level of animals and insist on offending Me so much that they cannot live without committing sins. Their minds become blind, and they sin like madmen. This is why I have been crowned with thorns for the third time... And by my nakedness, I make reparation for those who wear luxurious and indecent garments, for sins against modesty, and for those who are so attached to riches, honors, and pleasures that they make them a god in their hearts. Oh yes, each of these insults is death to me, and if I do not die, it is because the Will of my Eternal Father has decided that this is not yet the moment of my death!

My naked Goodness, as I make reparation with You, I ask You to strip me of everything with Your Most Holy hands and not allow any evil feelings to enter my heart. Watch over it, surround it with Your pain, and fill it with Your Love. May my life be nothing other than a repetition of Yours. Confirm my bareness with Your blessing. Bless me from Your heart and give me the strength to participate in Your painful crucifixion and be crucified with You.