Sixth Hour: From 10 to 11 PM
Second Hour of Agony in the Garden of Gethsemane


O my Sweet Jesus, one hour has already passed since You came to this Garden. Love took Primacy over everything, making You suffer, all at once, everything which the executioners will make You suffer through the whole course of Your Most Bitter Passion. Even more, Love compensates for it, and reaches the point of making You suffer what they cannot do to You, in the most interior parts of Your Divine Person.

O my Jesus, I see You now staggering in Your steps; yet, You want to walk. Tell me, O my Good, where do You want to go? Ah, I understand—to see Your beloved disciples. I too want to accompany You, so that if You stagger, I may sustain You.

But, O my Jesus, another bitterness for Your Heart, they are already sleeping. And You, always compassionate, call them, wake them up, and with Love all Paternal, admonish them and recommend to them vigil and prayer. Then You return to the Garden, but You carry another wound in Your Heart. In that wound I see, O my Love, all the piercings of the consecrated souls who, because of temptation, or mood, or lack of mortification, instead of clinging to You, keeping vigil and praying, abandon themselves to themselves and, sleepy, instead of making progress in love and in the union with You, draw back. How much compassion I feel for You, O Passionate Lover; and I repair You for all the ingratitudes of Your most faithful ones. These are the offenses that most sadden Your Adorable Heart, and their bitterness is such that they make You become delirious.

But, O Love without boundaries, Your Love, which is already boiling in Your veins, conquers everything and forgets everything. I see You prostrate to the ground as You Pray, Offer Yourself, Repair and, in everything, try to Glorify the Father for the offenses given to Him by the creatures. I too, O my Jesus, prostrate myself with You, and with You I intend to do what You do.

But, O Jesus, Delight of my heart, I see that crowds upon crowds, all sins, our miseries, our weaknesses, the most enormous crimes, the gravest ingratitudes, advance toward You, assail You, crush You, wound You, bite You. And You—what do You do? The Blood that boils in Your veins comes to face all these offenses, bursts the veins and pours out in large torrents; it makes You all wet, It flows to the ground, and You give Blood for offenses—Life for death. Ah Love, to what a state I see You reduced! You are about to breathe Your last. O, my Good, my Sweet Life, O please, do not die! Raise Your Face from this ground, which You wet with Your Most Holy Blood! Come into my arms! Let me die in Your place!

But I hear the trembling and dying voice of my Sweet Jesus, which says, “Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me; yet, not My will, but Yours be done.”

It is now the second time I hear this from my Sweet Jesus. But what do You make me understand from this “Father, if itbe possible, let this chalice pass from Me?” O Jesus, all the rebellions of creatures advance toward You; You see that “Fiat Voluntas Tua,” that “Your Will be done,” which was to be the Life of each creature, being rejected by almost all of them, and instead of finding Life, they find death. And You, wanting to give Life to all, and to make a Solemn Reparation to the Father for the rebellions of the creature, as many as three times You repeat, “Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me: that the souls, withdrawing from Our Will, become lost. This chalice is very bitter for Me; yet, not My will, but Yours be done.”

But while You say this, Your bitterness is so intense and so great, that You reach the extreme—You agonize, and are about to breathe Your last.

O my Jesus, my Good, since You are in my arms, I too want to unite myself to You; I want to repair and compassionate You for all the faults and the sins committed against Your Most Holy Will, and also pray to You that I may always do Your Most Holy Will in everything. May Your Will be my breath, my air; may Your Will be my heartbeat, my heart, my thought, my Life and my death.

But, O please, do not die! Where will I go without You? To whom will I turn? Who will give me help? Everything will end for me! O please, do not leave me, keep me as You want, as You best please, but keep me with You—always with You! May it never happen that I be separated from You, even for one instant! Rather, let me soothe You, repair You and compassionate You for everything, because I see that all sins, of every kind, weigh upon You.

Therefore, my Love, I kiss Your Most Holy Head. But, what do I see? All the evil thoughts; and You feel disgust for them. For Your Most Sacred Head, each evil thought is a thorn that pricks You bitterly. Ah, the crown of thorns that the Jews will place upon You cannot be compared with these! How many crowns of thorns the evil thoughts of creatures place upon Your Adorable Head, to the point that Your Blood drips everywhere, from Your forehead and from Your hair! Jesus, I compassionate You, and would like to place upon You as many crowns of glory; and in order to soothe You, I offer You all the Angelic intelligences and Your own Intelligence, to give You an act of compassion and of reparation for all.

O Jesus, I kiss Your pitying eyes, and in them I see all the evil gazes of creatures, which make tears and Blood flow over Your Face. I compassionate You, and I would like to soothe Your sight by placing before You all the pleasures that can be found in Heaven and on earth through union of Love with You.

Jesus, my Good, I kiss Your most holy ears. But, what do I hear? I hear in them the echo of horrendous blasphemies, of shouts of revenge, and of malicious gossip. There is not one voice that does not resound in Your most chaste hearing. O insatiable Love, I compassionate You, and I want to console You by making resound in it all the Harmonies of Heaven, the most sweet voice of Dear Mama, the ardent accents of Magdalene, and of all the loving souls.

Jesus, my Life, I want to impress a more fervent kiss on Your Face, whose Beauty has no equal. Ah, this is the Face on which the Angels, like cupids, desire to fix, for the great Beauty that enraptures them. Yet, the creatures dirty it with spit, beat it with slaps, and trample it underfoot. My Love, what daring! I would like to shout so loudly as to put them to flight! I compassionate You, and in order to repair for these insults, I go to the Most Holy Trinity, to ask for the kiss of the Father and of the Holy Spirit, and the Divine Caresses of Their Creative Hands. I also go to the Celestial Mama, that She may give me Her kisses, the caresses of Her Maternal hands, and Her Profound Adorations; and I offer You everything, to repair for the offenses given to Your Most Holy Face.

My Sweet Good, I kiss Your most holy mouth, embittered by horrible blasphemies, by the nausea of drunkenness and gluttony, by obscene discourses, by prayers done badly, by evil teachings, and by all the evil that man does with his tongue. Jesus, I compassionate You, and I want to sweeten Your mouth by offering You all the Angelic praises and the good use of the tongue made by many holy Christians.

My oppressed Love, I kiss Your neck, and I see it loaded down with ropes and chains, because of the attachments and the sins of creatures. I compassionate You, and in order to relieve You, I offer You the Indissoluble Union of the Divine Persons; and fusing myself in this Union, I extend my arms toward You, and forming a sweet chain of Love around Your neck, I want to remove the ropes of the attachments, which almost suffocate You; and to console You, I press You tightly to my heart.

Divine Fortress, I kiss Your Most Holy shoulders. I see them lacerated, and Your flesh almost torn to pieces by the scandals and the evil examples of the creatures. I compassionate You, and in order to relieve You, I offer You Your most holy examples, the examples of the Queen Mama, and those of all the Saints. And I, O my Jesus, letting my kisses flow over each one of these Wounds, want to enclose in them the souls who, by force of scandals, have been snatched from Your Heart, and so rejoin the flesh of Your Most Holy Humanity.

My labored Jesus, I kiss Your breast, which I see wounded by coldness, lukewarmness, lack of correspondence and ingratitudes of the creatures. I compassionate You, and in order to relieve You, I offer You the reciprocal Love of the Father and the Holy Spirit—the Perfect Correspondence of the Three Divine Persons. And plunging into Your Love, O my Jesus, I want to shelter You in order to reject the new blows that the creatures throw at You with their sins; and taking Your Love, I want to wound them with it, that they may never again dare to offend You; and I want to pour it upon Your breast, to soothe You and to heal You.

My Jesus, I kiss Your Creative Hands. I see all the evil actions of the creatures, which, like as many nails, pierce Your Most Holy Hands. Therefore, You remain pierced, not with three nails, as on the Cross, but with as many nails for as many evil works as the creatures commit. I compassionate You, and to give You relief, I offer You all the holy works, and the courage of the martyrs in giving their blood and life for love of You. In sum, O my Jesus, I would like to offer You all the good works, in order to remove from You the many nails of the evil works.

O Jesus, I kiss Your Most Holy Feet, always untiring in searching for souls. In them You enclose all the steps of the creatures; but You feel many of them run away, and You would want to stop them. At each of their evil steps, You feel a nail being driven into You, and You want to use their very nails in order to nail them to Your Love; and the pain You feel, and the effort You make in order to nail them to Your Love is so intense and so great, that You tremble all over. My God and my Good, I compassionate You, and in order to console You, I offer You the steps of the good religious and of all the faithful souls, who expose their life in order to save souls.

O Jesus, I kiss Your Heart. You continue to agonize, not for what the Jews will make You suffer, but for the pain which all the offenses of the creatures cause You.

In these hours You want to give Primacy to Love, the second place to all sins, for which You Expiate, Repair, Glorify the Father, and Placate the Divine Justice; and the third to the Jews. In this way You show that the Passion which the Jews will make You suffer will be nothing but the representation of the Double, Most Bitter Passion which Love and sin make You suffer. And this is why I see, all concentrated in Your Heart, the lance of Love, the lance of sin; and you wait for the third one, the lance of the Jews. And Your Heart, suffocated by love, suffers violent movements, impatient rushes of Love, desires that consume You, and Burning Heartbeats, which would want to give Life to every heart.

And it is exactly here, in Your Heart, that You feel all the pain that creatures cause You, who, with their evil desires, disordered affections, profaned heartbeats, instead of wanting Your Love, look for other loves. Jesus, how much You suffer! I see You faint, submerged by the waves of our iniquities. I compassionate You, and I want to soothe the bitterness of Your Heart, pierced three times, by offering You the Eternal Sweetnesses and the Most Sweet Love of Dear Mama Mary, as well as those of all Your true lovers.

And now, O my Jesus, let my poor heart draw Life from Your Heart, that I may live only with Your Heart; and in each offense You will receive, let me be ever ready to offer You a relief, a comfort, a reparation, an act of love, never interrupted.


Reflections and Practices


In the second hour in Gethsemane, all sins from all times, past, present and future, present themselves before Jesus, and He loads upon Himself all these sins to give complete Glory to the Father. So, Jesus Christ Expiated, Prayed, and felt all our moods in His Heart without ever ceasing to Pray. And we, do we always pray, in whatever mood we may be—cold, hard, tempted? Do we give Jesus the pains of our soul as reparation and as relief in order to copy Him completely within us, thinking that each mood of ours is a pain of Jesus? As a pain of Jesus, we must place it around Him to compassionate Him and relieve Him. And if possible we must say to Him, “You have suffered too much. Take rest, and we will suffer in Your place.”

Do we lose heart, or do we remain at the feet of Jesus with courage, giving Him all that we suffer, so that Jesus may find His own Humanity in us? That is, are we His Humanity for Jesus? What did the Humanity of Jesus do? It Glorified Its Father, Expiated, and Pleaded the salvation of souls. And we—do we enclose within ourselves these three intentions ofJesus in everything we do, so as to be able to say, “We enclose within ourselves all the Humanity of Jesus Christ?”

In our moments of darkness, do we place the intention of making the light of truth shine in others? And when we pray with fervor, do we place the intention of melting the ice of many hearts hardened in sin?

My Jesus, in order to compassionate You and relieve You from the total exhaustion in which You find Yourself, I rise up to Heaven and make Your own Divinity my own; and placing It around You, I want to move all the offenses of creatures away from You. I want to offer You Your Beauty to move the ugliness of sin away from You; Your Sanctity to move away the horror of all those souls who make You feel repugnance, because they are dead to grace; Your Peace to move the discords, the rebellions and the disturbances of all creatures away from You; Your Harmonies to relieve Your hearing from the waves of many evil voices. My Jesus, I intend to offer You as many Divine Acts of Reparation for as many offenses as assault You, almost wanting to give You death. And I intend to give You Life with Your own Acts. Then, O my Jesus, I want to throw a wave of Your Divinity upon all creatures, so that, at Your Divine Contact, they may no longer dare to offend You.

Only in this way, O Jesus, will I be able to offer You compassion for all the offenses that You receive from creatures.

O Jesus, Sweet Life of mine, may my prayers and my pains rise always toward Heaven, so as to let the Light of Grace rain upon all, and absorb Your own Life in me.