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RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
BOOK THREE - THE MESSAGE OF LOVE
PART TWO
Chapter XII. ROME
THE MOTHER HOUSE—DIVINE PLEDGES October 2nd–26th 1923
“Just as the sun shines with greater splendor after a dark day, so after such intense suffering shall My work appear in all its brightness.” (Our Lord to Josefa, October 14th, 1923)
PART TWO
Chapter XII. ROME
THE MOTHER HOUSE—DIVINE PLEDGES October 2nd–26th 1923
“Just as the sun shines with greater splendor after a dark day, so after such intense suffering shall My work appear in all its brightness.” (Our Lord to Josefa, October 14th, 1923)
JOSEFA was about to leave Les Feuillants for the second time, but now for a more distant destination.
Since the day when Our Lady had intimated that it was Our Lord’s will that she should personally convey a message concerning the great work of Love to the Mother General in Rome, and Jesus Himself had confirmed it (August 20th, 1923), much correspondence with the Mother-House and a great deal of anxious prayer had prepared for the realization of Our Lord’s wish.
For a considerable time the Mother General had wanted to meet and speak with this distant little member of the Society. From Rome she had followed Josefa’s history, controlling with maternal solicitude and enlightened prudence her guidance and direction, and now guided as are God’s friends, by the supernatural wisdom He imparts, she was on the look-out for any providential sign that would favor the project of a short stay for her at the Mother-House.
A retreat for Superiors was about to open at the Via Nomentana, and a large number of Reverend Mothers from Europe had been invited to take part in it, that the spirit of unity and fervor might receive fresh impetus. This seemed the providential sign. Josefa would accompany her Superior to Rome to help with the extra household work at the Mother-House. The journey was therefore decided upon and the day of departure fixed.
Such changes of house, while looked upon as a matter of course in the Society of the Sacred Heart and unhesitatingly made, are nevertheless keenly felt offerings. Josefa’s heart was too closely conformed to the Heart of Jesus not to be sensitively alive to anything in the way of partings from all she loved . . . her Mothers, her Sisters, the cell of Our Mother Foundress, the chapel, the very cloisters . . . all scenes of signal graces. She quite believed that this time her departure was for good, and one of the Mothers whom she had helped for the last two years wrote after Josefa had gone:
“I met her in the little Auxiliary Chapel which she loved so much and to which she was paying a parting visit. There on the threshold where we had so often met in prayer, we made a pact together to remain united in His Heart. ‘What shall we ask for each other?’ I said. She was silent, and I proposed ‘that Jesus should be able to carry out His designs on our souls perfectly.’ ‘Oh, yes,’ she answered at once. ‘His Will—everything is in that. We must leave Him perfectly free in us.’ And she went on: ‘However great the suffering of each day, the grace of the day will never be wanting.’ By the expression of her face, I guessed that a very intense suffering was at the moment God’s Will for her, as well as the proof of her love for Him.
“As she was leaving, she said to me: ‘I am so happy to be able to make Our Lord the sacrifice of this house. It cost me to leave Spain, now it costs to leave France, the home of my soul and the cradle of my religious life. But it is God’s Will.’ ”
On Tuesday, October 2nd, at midday Josefa and her Superior left for Rome.
Jesus was to make Himself their Companion on this first stage of the route. No sooner had the train started, than in recollected silence, though the carriage was very full, Josefa was deep in prayer. So many conflicting emotions filled her heart that they could only be stilled in silent contact with the inward Guest. No need for her to strive to find Him; her heart went straight to the inner solitude that no outward commotion could interrupt, and soon she was absorbed in the presence that was everything to her.
Suddenly, Jesus appeared. Which of the travelers in that crowded carriage would have guessed what the closed eyes of the humble little Sister beheld?
“Look at My Heart,” He said, and from the wound there issued fiery sparks. “Souls do not know how to come to this Heart and to find the graces I wish to pour out on them. There are so many who will not let themselves be drawn by the loadstone of My love. That is why I need My chosen souls. They must spread these magnetic sparks the whole world over. You cannot think, Josefa, how much glory your faith, your trust and submission have given Me. I bless you, and will make use of you to pour My graces and My love on the world.”
Jesus disappeared . . . but towards evening, a little before they arrived in Paris, He returned once more, and reassured her about His plans for this particular stage of her life’s journey. “I want to save the world,” He said, “and use you, poor and miserable creature, by passing on to you My desires, that many souls may know of My mercy and love through you.”
And to her reiterated query about what she was to say and do “over there,” for that “over there” was a formidable unknown to her mind—
“Do not be afraid,” He said. “I will tell you Myself. . . . I am leading you. . . . You will speak fearlessly, Josefa, for this is the means by which My desires will begin to be realized.”
Later He again insisted on this, and repeated: “Do not fear, though My footsteps seem at times made on sand so that they leave no trace. . . . It is not really so. You, on your part, have only to be docile and not to worry about anything nor about what people may say or think of you. I am taking full charge and I know what conduces to the good of My work.”
Greatly comforted, Josefa was encouraged to tell Our Lord of yet other things that moved and troubled her:
“If you had no faith, I should understand your fears,” answered Our Lord, “but if you believe in Me, why be anxious? Remember these words: ‘I work in darkness, yet I am Light.’ I have warned you more than once that the day will come when everything will seem lost, and My great work brought to nothing. But today I tell you ‘The light will return, stronger than ever!’ ”
These predictions surely pointed to some happenings in Rome, affecting not only herself but the precious enterprise of which she carried the secret in her heart. No doubt she must suffer much, but she must also trust Him absolutely.
What could this clearly predicted suffering be? . . . There was no hint of it when at about midday they reached the Eternal City on October 5th, a First Friday of the month.
Many Superiors were already there, and as the day went on, there were fresh arrivals. In this happy gathering nobody noticed the little Spanish Sister who had come to help with the housework. She quietly slipped into the shade she so coveted and loved, and very soon she had blended with the Italian Sisters, and found her way about the big Mother-House.
At once she felt at home and her soul was filled with happiness and a deep sense of security. She loved all the Mothers so much . . . and her first interview with her Mother General was proof enough that, as Our Lord had told her, He was paving the way for her.
The kindness of her reception filled her with gratitude and confusion. Already she looked forward to spending herself in helping everywhere in the house so soon to become a Cenacle of prayer. She met several of the Spanish Mothers she had known and other religious with whom it gave her great pleasure to talk in her own tongue, and thus to make contact once more with her beloved Spain. This she had not expected, and no shadow came to darken this deep happiness so well known in religious houses, and prized all the more because so rarely granted.
Josefa delighted in her new-found joy. It seemed to her that for once all clouds had been swept from her sky, dispersed by the warm Southern sun, and that she herself was nothing more than a happy little Sister of the Society she so loved.
But God’s ways are not our ways. Soon He reminded His messenger that it was not for her personal enjoyment that she was there, but to help Him in Love’s great work.
On Saturday, October 6th, He told her where to meet Him, because, He explained, she must write down His wishes for the Mother General.
Faithful always, she reassumed the heavy burden of the divine demands so contrary to her attractions, and while the Mother-House on the eve of the opening of the Retreat was filling with joyful new arrivals, she was busy writing the Message which Jesus entrusted to her. The secrets that these pages contained cannot be published; they remain the cherished inheritance of the Society of the Sacred Heart. But brought thus suddenly back to her mission, Josefa’s fears were re-awakened, and there arose in her soul a flood of nameless terror.
Our Lord appeared to her again during her thanksgiving the next day, Sunday, October 7th, and, as once to the Disciples of Emmaus, He asked her: “Why are you sad?”
“Lord,” she answered, “I feel sad to find myself in this path of extraordinary happenings, in which sometimes I fear I may be lost forever.”
“Do you not realize, Josefa, that I never leave you alone? My one desire is to reveal to souls the love, the mercy, and the pardon of My Heart, and I have chosen you to do it for Me, wretched as you undoubtedly are. But do not be anxious, I love you, and your misery is the very reason of My love. I want you for Myself, and because you are so miserable I have worked miracles to guard you carefully. . . . Yes, I love all souls, but with very special affection those who are the most weak and little.”
Then very gravely Jesus continued:
“I have loved and watched over you, Josefa. I still love and watch over you, and will love and watch over you to the very end. Hide Me in your heart lovingly, for I hold you in Mine, tenderly and mercifully.”
A few minutes later, during the nine o’clock Mass, Jesus deigned once more to manifest Himself. Nothing betrayed the divine presence. Josefa was kneeling among the Sisters, she renewed her vows and adored Him of whom her heart could only say “He was so beautiful.” She heard these words: “I am looking for love from My beloved ones, and I come to tell them that what I yearn for, what I implore them to give Me, is love, nothing but love! As for you, Josefa, be very faithful and obedient; gradually I will make all known to you, and soon I shall take you to eternal beatitude. Then My words will be read, and My love known.”
That Sunday afternoon Jesus returned, as He had said He would, to continue the dictation of His Message.
How profound was the silence, here as at Poitiers, that surrounded these marvels of Divine Love.
When He had gone, Josefa went humbly and simply back to her household duties, handing over to the prudent care of her Superiors the secrets of which she knew herself to be only the frail and profitless intermediary. Several times she herself took to the Mother General the papers on which she had transcribed the Master’s plans. These visits, necessarily kept secret, filled Josefa with confusion. She was reserved and respectful as always, but this did not prevent her from expressing in her own tactful and self-forgetting manner the loving and childlike feelings that filled her grateful heart. Yet Our Lord kept her soul in a lowly and painful awareness of her nothingness. It had all along been His way with her; and what human opposition or humiliation could equal the depths of annihilation to which God can reduce His creature, when it so pleases Him? . . . Josefa acquiesced wholly, allowing herself to be destroyed by that all-powerful and ever growing possession.
She wrote on Monday, October 8th:
“I told Our Lord during my thanksgiving how my soul trembles at the thought of His judgments, now that I see myself on the brink of death and my life laid bare before Him. . . .
“He came quite suddenly and looked at me long and sweetly, with immense tenderness. . . .”
Josefa loved to dwell on Our Lord’s look, which of itself gave her such peace. How many souls, when they read of that divine glance of Jesus, will feel faith in His tenderness revivified, for it penetrates, purifies, calms and strengthens. The eyes of Jesus will surely rest on them too; none who believe can doubt this.
When He had, as it were, read Josefa through and through, He said:
“All that is true, if you merely look at what you have done. But, Josefa, I shall Myself introduce you to the citizens of Heaven. I am preparing the robe I destine for you. It is woven of the precious flax of My merits and dyed in the purple of My blood. My lips will seal your soul with the kiss of peace and love. So do not fear, I will not forsake you till I have led you where your soul will rest in everlasting Light.”
Josefa’s simple comment was: “Jesus has taken away all my fear of death.”
As this history has already shown many times, such hours of bliss usually presaged a coming storm, and Josefa was about to face the worst that had ever befallen her.
That same morning, when helping the other Sisters in the laundry, she felt the first symptoms of an attack that nothing hitherto had led her to foresee. She had a slight hemorrhage from the lungs, which she tried to make nothing of, but her pallor revealed that some accident had occurred.
The doctor who was consulted was not alarmed. But after careful examination, he asked her age. She was thirty-three. He expressed his astonishment, saying: “She is worn out.” It would have needed less than the mystery of her daily and nightly dolorous persecutions to explain her loss of strength. But this could not be revealed, and steps were taken to afford her some extra rest during the days that followed, though she did not completely give up her work or common life. When one of the Assistants General kindly inquired how she was, she answered naively: “As I am going to die, I must have something the matter.”
However this physical lassitude was as nothing to the trial that awaited her. The arch-fiend made his appearance unexpectedly on that same October 8th. With specious cunning he succeeded in deceiving Josefa. He appeared with the features of Our Lord, and tried to alter His plan.
But the very excess of this infernal craft made clear who he really was, for this was not the first time he had attempted to pose as an angel of light. Seeing himself unmasked, he changed aspect, threatened, blasphemed, and finally vanished in a whirl of smoke, leaving Josefa in a terrified and confused uncertainty.
She wrote afterwards: “I am so full of genuine doubts, that I believe that I have all along been the sport of the devil, and feel convinced that everything I have seen and written is his doing, and now I can only implore Our Lord to enlighten my Superiors, that they too may see the truth.”
On the following day, Tuesday, October 9th, she continued in the same strain: “The same awful anxiety and sorrow . . . the thought that all those things have never been Our Lord’s doing, but the devil’s, is causing me the most terrible distress! The only grace I implore is that my Superiors may see the truth as I now do.”
A gleam of peace and truth lighted up her overwhelming tribulations. Our Lady came in response to her agonized supplications. Josefa, however, was so unbalanced for the moment that she did not believe that she really saw her. After listening to the renewal of her vows and repeating with her the Divine Praises, Our Lady reassured her:
“Daughter, it really is myself, the Mother of God, the Mother of Jesus, who is Purity and eternal Light itself. . . . It is your Mother who speaks to you and who has come to calm your troubled soul. Be not afraid, Jesus will defend you and will so order events that the craft of the enemy will always be unmasked, every time he tries to deceive you. If you are in doubt, say bravely: ‘Begone, Satan; I will have nothing to do with you who are delusion and falsehood. I belong to Jesus who is Truth and Life.’ Fear nothing; the Heart of Jesus guides and loves you all, always. I too love you, Josefa, and I bless you . . . be at peace.”
These words comforted her for the time being. But the hour of darkness had come. Satan so powerfully deluded her, that she was convinced that she had been deceived for the last three years. Evidence to the contrary only increased her anxiety, for it added the further certainty that unknowingly she had deceived all those who had helped her up to this time.
So poignant was her distress, that never before had she experienced the like. God alone can gauge the sharp suffering of a soul that has, so to speak, lost its footing, and knows not where to turn for support. . . . But He alone also can gauge the value of a faith and abandonment that have reached the heights of heroism; Josefa had but tried to be faithful to the truth. Her detachment from the path which she had hitherto believed to be God’s own, the humility with which in the midst of darkest night she faced and accepted the consequences of what she termed her ‘mental aberrations’ . . . the piteous fidelity and sorrowful peace that anchored her, in spite of everything, to God’s Will, the giving up of herself to that mysterious chain of events, of which she could not now see even a trace, the simplicity of an obedience which hoped and looked for no other security than the word of Superiors: are not all these authentic signs of the Spirit of God?
While the devil was using the power granted him, and while his efforts seemed to be triumphing over Love’s great work, the watchful eyes that guarded Josefa were able to discern in the storm the luminous action of Jesus who, in Josefa herself, was giving indubitable proofs of His presence and His plans. Jesus had said “I work in the dark, yet I am Light.” Never before had these words seemed so true.
As for Josefa, judging herself to be beneath compassion and worthy only of contempt, she humbly went on with her work, in spite of the fatigue that was wearing her out. The devil never stopped hurling his false accusations at her, but she relaxed neither her faith nor her energy.
God did not allow the assurances given by her Superiors to allay her moral anguish, He Himself seemed to have abandoned her, and her prayer which was rather a cry of distress remained unheard. A long week passed, and not a ray of light pierced through the gloom. Josefa bore her cross in silence, and not for an instant betrayed her intense suffering. But there were moments when her features were quite altered, and she felt the trial to be beyond her strength. In vain the kindness of the Mother General endeavored to distract her and bring some alleviation to her tribulation by sending her to visit Mater Admirabilis, the miraculous Madonna of the Trinita, and again allowing her to take part in one of the public audiences of H. H. Pope Pius XI, who blessed her and gave her his hand to kiss. Her faith was strengthened by this grace and as a true daughter of the Church she appreciated the favor, and from it drew strength to go on bearing her cross, which was not, however, for an instant less heavy on her exhausted shoulders.
He whose wisdom disposes all things knew at what moment He would intervene.
On Sunday, October 14th, during her thanksgiving, Josefa suddenly found herself in the presence of the Master who stilled the storm and calmed the winds and the sea. She hesitated, feared, and tried to doubt and repulse far from her the vision she believed to be false.
“Fear not.”
It was the strong sweet voice of Jesus, a challenge to all Satan’s craft. And as, after renewing her vows, she persisted in her refusal and energetically protested with her whole will against the trickery:
“Fear not,” reiterated her Master. “I am Jesus, I am the Spouse to whom you are united by those vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience which you have just renewed. I am the God of Peace!”
These words brought with them such conviction and security that all hesitation was at an end. “Without my willing it,” she wrote, “so great a light came to my understanding, that I felt convinced that it was indeed He. . . .”
A few hours later, the devil tried, but in vain, to persuade her that she was mistaken. But at the time of her adoration that evening:
“He,” she said, “whom I took to be Jesus came back. I asked Him to assert with me that He was indeed the Son of the Immaculate Virgin. Then with peace radiant on His countenance as in His voice, He said: ‘Yes, Josefa, I am the Son of the Immaculate Virgin, the Second Person of the most Holy Trinity, Jesus, the Son of God and God Himself. I clothed Myself with human nature that I might give My blood and My life for souls. I love them, Josefa, and I love you. . . . Now I am searching for them to manifest My love and mercy to them, and for this reason I abased Myself and came down to you. Fear nothing, for My power protects you.’ ”
Then with sovereign authority came the words: “No, you are not mistaken.”
The thick mist that had enveloped Josefa was torn asunder at these words and Jesus continued: “Tell your Mothers that I want you to write. And just as the sun shines with greater splendor after a dark day, so after such intense suffering shall My work appear in all its brightness.”
Peace now succeeded to the storm, though gradually, as to a tempest-tossed sea which has been lashed to its very depths.
On Monday, October 15th, as she was passing the oratory of Saint Madeleine Sophie she heard herself called by a well-known voice. Fearful still, she tried to run away, but her Mother Foundress drew her to trust and peace.
“I am your Mother, Josefa,” she said to her, and to reassure her completely, she added: “I want to tell you only that all during my life I sought nothing but the glory of the Divine Heart. And now that I live in Him and by Him, my only desire is to see His Kingdom come. That is why I pray that for many souls this little Society may be a means by which He may be known and loved ever more and more.
“ . . . Fear nothing. For if the devil tries to harm it, it is because the Heart of Jesus loves it with such a special love. But Our Divine Master will not allow it to fall a victim to the snares of the enemy.
“Go now, child, to your work; I bless you.”
That evening in the silence of the retreat which had been going on while Josefa had been the victim of such terrible happenings, Our Lord came to continue giving the Message which had been so painfully interrupted.
“Do not imagine that I am going to speak to you of anything but My Cross. By it I saved the world; by it I will bring the world back to the truths of the Faith and to the Way of Love. . . .
“I will manifest My Will to you: I saved the world from the Cross, that is to say through suffering. You know that sin is an infinite offense and needs infinite reparation . . . that is why I ask you to offer up your sufferings and labors in union with the infinite merits of My Heart. You know that My Heart is yours. Take It, therefore, and repair by It. . . . Instill love and trust into the souls that come in contact with you. Bathe them in love—bathe them in confidence in the goodness and mercy of My Heart. Whenever you can speak of Me and make Me known, tell them always not to fear, for I am a God of Love.
“I recommend three practices very specially to you:
“First: The practice of the Holy Hour, because it is one of the ways by which an infinite reparation can be offered up to God the Father, through the mediation of Jesus Christ His Divine Son.
“Second: The devotion of the five Paters in honor of My Wounds, since through them the world was saved.
“Third: Constant union, or rather daily offering of the merits of My Heart, because by so doing you will give to all your actions an infinite value.
“Unceasingly use My life, My blood, My Heart . . . confide constantly and without any fear in this Heart: this secret is known to few; I want you to know it and to profit by it.”
Then after a few definite requests addressed to the Society
One of these requests concerned what the Bishop of Poitiers would have to do with regard to the Message; moreover, there was this indication of the date of Josefa’s death: “In February 1924 the Cardinal Protector is to be approached, that is to say after your death.”
Our Lord added: “Rest in My peace. I love you, I guide you, I defend you, so never have any doubts of My loving kindness.”
After the storm, peace had come to Josefa who, ignoring herself as usual, had little idea of how greatly the work of Love had progressed during the tempest through which she had passed. The Mother General, who had been a close observer of the confusion of mind into which her child had been thrown, had been able to gauge the depth of Josefa’s virtue, and the sincerity of her detachment. The supernatural and spiritual had never been more evident or authentic than in those awful hours when drowned in anguish, she had accepted in peace and complete abandonment the apparent destruction of the work of Love, which she had believed in, and for which she had sacrificed her life and surrendered her whole being.
The visit to Rome was about to end; Our Lord had carried out His plan in full. There followed a few more happy days filled with graces, and on Friday, October 19th, Saint Madeleine Sophie, speaking to Josefa of the work which was nearing completion, reminded her child of the function of the Cross in it:
“Have no fear,” she said, “for the Sacred Heart has always Himself directed and guided this little Society, though it is not always easy to recognize His action. Faith is much wanting in the world, and Jesus looks to His religious to repair this lack by their acts of trust. You must not be afraid or worried when light is not granted you, Jesus will give it to you when you need it, and will do everything to bring about the full accomplishment of His wishes. Your part is to obey and surrender your will to His. True, there are moments when all is dark; the Cross rises stark before us and prevents our seeing Jesus Himself. But then it is that He says to us: ‘Fear not, it is I.’ Yes, indeed it is His very self and He will guide and finish the work He has begun. Have no fear, be faithful and remain in peace.”
The feast of Mater Admirabilis, one very dear to the Society of the Sacred Heart, fell on Saturday, October 20th. It was not to pass without the Mother of God coming to reassure Josefa. “I am your Mother, the Mother of Jesus and the Mother of Mercy,” she said, so making Josefa sure of her identity.
At once Josefa told her all her troubles, for she still could not completely dominate them.
“Let bygones be bygones, my daughter. Let Jesus gather glory from your littleness and misery, it is thus that His power and mercy shine forth the more. . . . Do you not see how His Fatherly hand has led and guarded you here? Have no fear, He will continue helping you to the end. Be very simple, for you will have no other glory in Heaven than your simplicity. Little children have no acquired merits, and so it is with you. You are the beloved of His Heart without having done anything to merit it. He it is who does everything in you, who pardons you, who loves you.”
The following day, Sunday, October 21st, whilst she was at prayer, Jesus showed her His Heart all ablaze and said to her:
“Behold this Heart! It is the Open Book wherein you must meditate. It will teach you all virtues, especially zeal for My glory and for the salvation of souls.
“Gaze well and long on this Heart. It is the Sanctuary of the miserable, hence yours, for who is more miserable than you? Look deep down into My Heart. It is the Crucible in which the most defiled are purified, and afterwards inflamed with love. Come, draw near this Furnace, cast your miseries and sins into it; have confidence and believe in Me who am your Saviour. Once more fix your eyes attentively on My Heart. It is a Fountain of Living Water. Throw yourself into its depths and appease your thirst. I desire, I long that all may come and find refreshment at this source. As for you, I have found a hidden place for you in the depths of My Heart . . . you are so lowly that you could not attain to It alone. Use well the graces I have there stored for you. . . . Let My love have free play in you, and always remain little.”
That same evening, Saint Madeleine Sophie appeared to Josefa, and her motherly counsels ended on this note: “May Jesus be loved and glorified in a special way by all the souls that are in the Society of His Heart!”
“I asked her to bless me,” wrote Josefa, “since she is my Mother. This was the last time I saw her in Rome. The following days were full of peace and true joy, and on Wednesday, the 24th, we left Rome and reached Poitiers on the 26th.”
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
BOOK THREE - THE MESSAGE OF LOVE
PART TWO
Chapter XII. ROME
LAST DAYS AT POITIERS: PURIFICATION October 26th–November 30th, 1923
“Hitherto My Cross has rested on you. My Will now is that you should rest on it.” (Our Lord to Josefa, October 27th, 1923)
PART TWO
Chapter XII. ROME
LAST DAYS AT POITIERS: PURIFICATION October 26th–November 30th, 1923
“Hitherto My Cross has rested on you. My Will now is that you should rest on it.” (Our Lord to Josefa, October 27th, 1923)
GENOA . . . Paris . . . Poitiers! The rapid if uneventful journey home ended on October 26th, at five o’clock in the evening, when the travelers found the expectant Community waiting to welcome them. As in the preceding June, after the first burst of joyous inquiries and the questions at recreations about all that had happened in Rome, Josefa sank into the shadow, and silence deepened around her. It was thus that Jesus had all along been pleased to veil His familiar intercourse with her, and so to the end He would hide His last messages, as well as the sufferings and trials which would complete His work.
The last stage was to be a short one, and Josefa knew it. The exhaustion which was wearing out her whole being was sufficient warning of her approaching end. Side by side with it was the strong call of love, detaching and irresistible in its appeal.
On Saturday, October 27th, after a restful night, she wrote her thanks to the Mother General. It was a very simple, unstudied and spontaneous little letter, which we quote, for in it was revealed her fresh and naïve soul, which knew nothing of striving for effect.
“Very Reverend Mother,
“I write to you today with great joy to thank you for all the kindness you have shown me.
“May Jesus repay you for it all. . . . I have been asking this of Him with my whole heart, and to you, Very Reverend Mother, I promise to do my utmost to be very faithful during the four or five months of life that remain to me. I will do and say whatever Jesus tells me, and will try to be a little more humble. I think that is what costs me most . . . that is why I promise it in all sincerity, and it will be by such efforts that I shall try to repair a little for my past life.
“For the moment, I am in great peace and very happy, although I have not seen either Jesus or Our Lady or our Holy Mother again.
“I am glad to be back at Poitiers, but I shall never forget the days spent at the Mother-House, and the maternal affection I found there. I shall not forget you in my prayers either, and when I get to Heaven I will try to scatter many ‘regalitos’ (little gifts) on the Mothers whom I love so much, and to obtain for them little joys in those things they need.
“Bless me, Very Reverend Mother, I remain always
“Your little and humble child in the Heart of Jesus,
“JOSEFA MENÉNDEZ.”
Our Lord did not long delay His return, He seemed in haste to tell her His plans for the last days of her life. On the evening of October 27th, she wrote:
“He came all beautiful, with His Crown of Thorns in His hand. I was delighted, for I had not seen Him since I left Rome, So I told Him all that fills my heart, and He answered so tenderly. ‘Why, Josefa, do you suppose that I do not know that you are here again? . . . It was I that brought you back!’ ”
“Now do not be afraid,” He continued, as He read in her soul’s depths the ever-present fear of Satan’s snares. “It really is I Myself, Jesus, the Son of the Immaculate Virgin, your Saviour and Beloved.”
Then with grave kindness, He added: “Hitherto, My Cross has rested on you. My Will now is that you should rest on it. You know that the Cross is the patrimony of My chosen souls.”
It was impossible for Josefa not to surrender to a love that solicited her suffering so graciously. At once she offered herself, and looking longingly at the Crown, she ventured to beg Him to leave it in her keeping.
“Yes,” was His reply, “today My Crown of Thorns, and soon My Crown of Glory. . . . Leave it all to Me. . . . Let Me work in you and through you for souls. I love you . . . love Me.”
The work of love, mysterious and divine, was about to receive its consummation.
The next day, October 28th, Josefa resumed her ordinary occupations. As was her custom, she went toward nightfall to make the Stations of the Cross in the little Auxiliary Chapel she so loved, and of which she had again been given the charge, to her extreme satisfaction.
“After I had finished the Stations,” she wrote, “I recited the five Our Fathers in honor of His wounds. I had hardly begun the first when He appeared. He stretched out His right hand, then His left, and as I recited the five Paters, a ray of light shone from each of His wounds. I renewed my vows, and at the end He said to me: ‘I am Jesus, Josefa, the Son of the Immaculate Virgin. Behold the wounds that were opened on the Cross to redeem the world from eternal death and give it life! They obtain forgiveness and mercy for so many who incense the Father, and they, henceforth, will bestow on them light, strength and love.’
“Then, pointing to His wounded Heart: ‘This wound is the fiery furnace to which chosen souls, especially the brides of My Heart, must come to enkindle theirs. This wound is theirs; It belongs to them with all the graces it contains, that they may distribute them to the world, to the many souls who do not know where to seek them, and to so many others who despise them.’
“Then,” wrote Josefa, “I asked Him to teach these souls how to make Him known and loved.
“ ‘I will give them all the light they need, that they may know how to utilize their treasure, and not only to make Me known and loved, but also to repair the outrages with which sinners overwhelm Me. Alas! The world offends Me, but it will be saved by the reparation of My chosen souls.
“ ‘Farewell, Josefa. Love, for love is reparation and reparation is love.’ ”
The following days were to be a response to this appeal.
On the first day of the week Josefa had returned to her work-room where everyone welcomed her with joy. Much needlework had been done during October, for a large increase in the school necessitated a great deal of industry to finish the uniforms for all. It gave her great pleasure to see how her Sisters had worked, and above all she was delighted to think that her death would not cause much inconvenience, now that she was so ably replaced by those she had trained. She felt that they must gradually take over all responsibility in the workroom; and though she continued to spend long hours at her needle, for the most part she mended and darned, leaving the initiative and management to the young nun who was her substitute, just guiding her by an encouraging look when occasion demanded it.
This effacement, which so entirely detached her from the employment she had loved, was in itself precious to her soul. Though her attraction for it never changed, she became if possible more kindly and helpful and her smile more radiant, in spite of her exhaustion.
In the midst of these last efforts, the secret chiseling by which Our Lord conformed her to His Passion and Cross was continued. November had hardly begun than the devil once more tried the same wiles that had caused her such agony in Rome. He appeared to her under the lineaments of Our Lord and allowed her to renew her vows, but when asked to repeat the Divine Praises and the words that Jesus so exultingly gloried in saying: “I am Jesus, the Son of the Immaculate Virgin. . . .” “Say it yourself; that will do,” was the answer he gave her. In vain he tried to simulate the words Jesus used, but Josefa repulsed him with indignation. But her soul was troubled by this and by the thought of her approaching death, and day after day went by in painful anguish of spirit.
“And so,” she wrote, “from October 28th to November 13th I did not see Our Lord again.”
On the feast of Saint Stanislaus, Patron of the Novices, light once more shone on her troubled path.
“This morning after Communion,” she wrote, “Jesus came. He was beautiful, in His wounds were shining flames, and before I could say a single word He said: ‘Do not fear; I am Jesus, the Son of the Immaculate Virgin.’ ”
Then He gently repeated the Divine Praises with her, and in order to reassure her fully, He said: “Yes, I am Love, I am the Son of the Immaculate Virgin, I am the Bridegroom of virgin souls, the Strength of the feeble, the Light of souls, their Life, their Reward and their End. My Blood cleanses all their sins; I make reparation for them, I am their Redeemer.”
Josefa was fully reassured by such kindness, and told Jesus of all the sufferings of the last days, especially of her lassitude, which made work impossible and gave her a presentiment that her end was near.
“But Josefa,” was His tender reply, “do you not long to possess Me and enjoy Me without end? . . . I, on My part, long for you! I glory in those who do My Will always and in all things, and for that reason I chose you. Leave Me free to do with you what I know will be both for My glory and for your good. The winter of this life is about to end. . . . I am your Beatitude!”
Then Jesus arranged to give her the second message which she was soon to pass on to the Bishop of Poitiers. A little later He rejoined Josefa in her cell. He began by dictating His message for the Bishop; after which He spoke for a wider following:
“I desire that My love should be the sun to enlighten, and the heat to reanimate souls. That is why My words must reach them. I want all the world to recognize in Me a God of mercy and of love. I wish that everywhere My desire to forgive and save souls should be read, and that not even the most wretched be kept back by fear . . . nor the most guilty fly from Me. . . . Let them all come. I await them with open arms like the most affectionate of fathers in order to impart life and true happiness to them.
“That the world may know My clemency, I need apostles who will reveal My Heart . . . but first these must know It themselves . . .
otherwise how can they teach others?
“So for the next few days, I will speak for My priests, My religious and My nuns, that all may clearly understand what I require: I want them to form a league of love in order to teach and publish the love and mercy of My Heart to all men, even to the extremities of the world. I want the need and desire for reparation to be re-awakened and grow among faithful and chosen souls, for the world is full of sin . . . and at this present moment nations are arousing the wrath of God. But He desires His reign to be one of love, hence this appeal to chosen souls, especially those of this nationality. He asks them to repair, to obtain pardon, and above all to draw down grace on this country which was the first to know My Heart and spread devotion to It.
“I want the world to be saved . . . peace and union to prevail everywhere. It is My Will to reign, and reign I shall, through reparation made by chosen souls, and through a new realization by all men of My kindness, My mercy and My love.
“My words will be light and life for an incalculable number of souls. They will all be printed, read, and preached, and I will grant very special grace, that by them souls may be enlightened and transformed.”
“Mis palabras serán la luz y la vida para muchísimas almas. Todas se imprimirán se leerán y se predicarán. Yo daré gracia especial para que hagan bien y para que sean la luz de las almas.’
Her Master had spoken with such ardor and force that Josefa was greatly struck. Now He was silent, and she adored the Divine Will which in affirming its plans removed her last fears.
“I begged Him to forgive my still doubting,” she wrote, “though He better than any understands the snares of the evil one. . . . With the utmost kindness, He answered me: ‘Do you suppose that I would give you over to be the sport of that cruel enemy? I love you and I will never let you be deceived. You must not fear, but trust Me who am Love.’ ”
Such messages could hardly be bought but at a high price . . . and this price was first to be paid by their messenger through intense suffering. She was fully aware of it, and day by day her oblation deepened.
Since the beginning of November, Josefa’s physical sufferings by day and principally by night had been destroying her, while intolerable pains, the cause of which could not be ascertained, increased in severity every Friday.
She was forced to spend November 9th stretched on a bed of pain; she was practically unable to stir, her head, chest and limbs worn out by excruciating agonies. . . . A renewal of the hemorrhage seemed to bring her to death’s door, and the doctors in consultation were not able to diagnose the cause. On Thursday, the 15th, towards eight in the evening, she had a most painful attack which seemed to presage death. It was renewed during the night, but when the morning of the 16th dawned Our Lord was brought to her in Holy Communion, and He appeared to her during her thanksgiving. These were moments of bliss and they gave Josefa strength to continue her ascent of Calvary.
“Have no anxiety,” He said to her. “I am your Life and your Strength. I am your All, and I will not forsake you.”
Then He reminded her of the visit of the Bishop which was to take place in the near future:
“As to yourself, remain in My hands, for I want to speak to My chosen ones. Leave Me entirely free. Thus shall I glorify Myself.”
This liberty was expressed chiefly in the gift of suffering. Three times that same Friday: at nine, at midday, and again between three and four, Jesus meant to associate her closely with the suffering of His Passion. As soon as she recovered a little she would rise and with incredible energy make an effort to resume her work. Thus it was that from day to day Josefa offered up to Him who was immolating her the sacrifice of a life which was going forward to its consummation.
On Tuesday, November 21st, Feast of Our Lady’s Presentation, she publicly renewed her vows with all the other young Sisters. She had prepared herself for this feast of oblation with a love that suffering had but stirred into a flame. She knew it was the last time that her voice would be heard in the Chapel renewing the vows that bound her to the Heart of Jesus and to the work of love.
During her thanksgiving Jesus appeared and said to her: “I, too, Josefa, renew the promise that I have made to you to love you and be faithful to you. Though I have made you suffer, this is not because I love you less: I do love you, and will love you to the end, but I need suffering to heal the wounds of sin. Farewell, stay with Me, as I with you.”
A few days later, on November 24th, Mgr. de Durfort paid Josefa a long and most kind visit. This was a great comfort to her, and she received it gratefully and simply as an immense grace.
Her complete unawareness of the importance of the role she was being called upon to play struck the holy old man very much. Her one preoccupation was the furtherance of Our Lord’s interests. Her share in the work of love, her personal sufferings, shown only too evidently by the exhaustion of her frame, were of no account to her, when compared with the plans and desires of her Master. She transmitted these to the Bishop with such exactness and objective clarity that no detail was lost, even in her halting French. And just as simply as she had for the moment come out of the shade, so did she once more step back into the way of suffering and purification which was more than ever hers.
Once more as November drew to a close, Tuesday, the 27th, Our Lord showed Himself to her as a blissful vision of peace, which she thus described:
“While I was making my adoration this evening before the Blessed Sacrament, I could find nothing to say to Him, so, that I might not lose my time, I read the Litany of the Sacred Heart very slowly. Then as there was still a little time over, I took the invocations of the First Friday Novena
These invocations are said as a novena in all the Convents of the Sacred Heart in preparation for the First Friday, and are a protestation of union with the feelings and affections of the Heart of Jesus.
and when I got to the words ‘To Thy close union with the Heavenly Father, I unite myself,’ He suddenly appeared in radiant beauty. His raiment seemed to be woven of gold, His Heart was a blazing furnace and from the wound in It came dazzling light. I renewed my vows and begged Him to pardon me for being so cold in His presence. It seemed to me though that it was not from want of love, because I love Him more than anything on earth . . . He listened to me and looked at me, and then said: ‘Do you know, Josefa, that that prayer is so pleasing to Me and is of such worth, that it far surpasses the most eloquent and sublime ones that could be offered Me. What is of greater value than My Heart’s union with My Heavenly Father? . . . When souls say this prayer they penetrate, as it were, into My Heart, unite themselves to My good pleasure for them. They unite themselves to God, and this is the most supernatural act that can be done here below, for by it they begin to live a heavenly life which consists of nothing else than the perfect and intimate union of the creature with its God and Creator.
“ ‘Continue your prayer, Josefa, for by it you adore, repair, merit and love. Yes, go on with that prayer, and I will continue the work of love.’
“Then I committed all my distresses to His Heart,” she wrote, “and He replied: ‘Be not disquieted . . . It is I Myself who am directing everything.’ ”
Blind faith in the guidance of Love was Josefa’s loadstone in these hours of darkness and obscurity. Overwhelmed by physical suffering she seemed to be thrown on her own unaided resources. She suffered deep dejection of soul which reduced her to a kind of moral agony. Yet her faith in Him who permitted it all never wavered; it sufficed that it was His permissive will, and, impotent but trustful, she gave herself up to the purifying action of Love.
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
BOOK THREE - THE MESSAGE OF LOVE
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
GOD SETS THE SEAL ON HIS WORK
“The sign that I shall give will be in you yourself.” (Our Lord to Josefa, September 20th, 1920)
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
GOD SETS THE SEAL ON HIS WORK
“The sign that I shall give will be in you yourself.” (Our Lord to Josefa, September 20th, 1920)
WE have reached December 1923, Josefa’s last month on earth. All was peace, order, wisdom, power, and sovereign liberty, such as belongs only to the King of Love in the great work that He was about to complete through the frail instrument of His choice.
It would seem to be a fitting moment to pause and consider Josefa’s soul in order to seek out the divine seal which might authenticate her mission.
“By their fruits ye shall know them,” Our Lord had once said to His disciples, and the principle holds good for all that is supernatural in virtue here below.
Answering one day the urgent but secret prayer of Josefa’s guides Our Lord had said to her (though she had no suspicion of their anxieties): “Let no one ask Me for any sign, Josefa. The sign that I shall give will be in you yourself.” A divine answer indeed, imprinted on every day of the four years of Josefa’s short religious life, marking it with what seems an unmistakable stamp.
It showed itself first and foremost in her childlike simplicity. She was one of those single-minded, lowly souls that truly delight the Heart of God and to whom He reveals His secrets. There was in her a total absence of self-consciousness, a confiding simplicity, a straightforward spontaneity; nothing ‘precious’ about her devotion nor anything the least complicated in her attitude of mind. Her faith was too firm to admit of exaggerations or fantastic imaginings. . . . She went straight as an arrow to God. It was this simplicity that engendered her effortless approach to the divine, and enabled her to endure trials without so much as suspecting their extraordinary character, and to return quickly and with ease to her ordinary life.
Her way of giving an account of herself to Superiors was devoid of pretentiousness; deferential, but also ingenuous and candid, the very style and handwriting of her notes leave an impression of one who was artless and simple, concentrated wholly on God.
Humility and charity, the two characteristics of the Heart of Jesus, recognized by the Church as peculiarly those of the Foundress, Saint Madeleine Sophie Barat, were likewise distinctive of Josefa’s virtue.
There was something grave and mature about her, resulting from the lowly opinion she had of herself. Proud and vivacious by nature, she found in religious life many occasions on which she might practice love in the smallest things, and realizing her own weakness, genuinely judged herself to be the last in the house. But her sincere humility showed itself also in other ways: forgetfulness and habitual sacrifice of self were the logical result of this conviction of her nothingness, itself a source of struggles to accept God’s Will for her. There were times when submission to the Divine Will reached the heights of heroism, so opposed was it to her natural inclinations; hence each step she took increased in her detachment from her own views and humble trust in authority.
Her humility seemed all the more genuine because its outward manifestation was charity, a charity so supernatural that it bound her every day more closely to the Heart of Jesus.
A humility less real might have taken advantage of her exceptional favors to stand aside from common life, enwrapped in a kind of self-complacency; but there was no trace of this in Josefa. The more the Sacred Heart made her the confidant of His secrets and filled her with His spirit, the greater became the evidence of her sweet charity; the closer her contact with the divine, the more simply helpful and kindly she grew towards others—her interest in them, her gift of self, and her ready prayers on their behalf never failing them. The whole world, nothing less, to be gained for Christ, such was the sole boundary of her horizon . . . yet no tiny service was allowed to escape her watchful attention for each and all. Over and above the world of souls, and of her community, there was plenty of space in her heart for God’s beautiful nature, the birds, flowers and insects . . . the starry sky . . . she embraced them all in her wide, strong, yet simple and naïve affection—an affection that must have delighted the Heart of her Master, since it was but an aspect of her love for Him.
Obedience, in the long run, is the great sign of Our Lord’s choice. The witnesses of her daily life note this virtue as characteristic of her. Her submission to the control over her actions and spirit was perfect: a submission both of judgment and of heart. Not a wish or attachment to one way of acting rather than another, and never a reason for or against decisions taken in her regard; she submitted herself simply and wholly to whatever line of conduct was prescribed, and so free was she from self, that she refrained even from comment on the graces she had received, much less expressed any sort of complaisance. Josefa’s notes, written only for the sake of obedience and with great reluctance, she never asked to read again. She just handed them over to her Superiors. This she had learned from Our Lord’s own mouth; He demanded of her complete dependence on authority. “I have drawn you to My Heart that obedience may be your very breath . . . know this, that if I should ask one thing of you and your Superiors another, I prefer you to obey them rather than Me.” “Go and ask leave . . .” He would say to her. He Himself explained to her how far and in what degree she was to be docile and pliant and as it were transparent in openness with Superiors. Again and again He came back to the point, impressing on Josefa the importance of this paramount virtue of religious life. “Seek Me in your Superiors. Listen to their words as if they fell from My lips; I am in them for your guidance.” Josefa adhered faithfully to this line of conduct.
Her love of Rule and of Common Life played a conspicuous part in defending her against the snares of the devil and against illusion. Many a time, her love of Common Life would have made her choose rather to follow it than the way marked out for her by Our Lord Himself, had not He given her a clear assurance of His divine Will. The Rule which she kept so carefully sometimes demanded heroic acts of courage and will by which she defied the evil one, when he threatened her with dire consequences if, for instance, she obeyed the first sound of the bell; yet though she dreaded the conflict and moral agony involved, love made her overcome her fear and brave the fiend. (Who would not have feared such an antagonist?)
Finally may we not see God’s seal on Josefa’s way of life in the perfect agreement of the teaching she received from the Sacred Heart of Our Lord, with the Rule she so loved and the spirit bequeathed by the Foundress St. Madeleine-Sophie to her daughters? That spirit is one of love and generosity, of reparation and zeal, and should mark each member of the Society of the Sacred Heart as spouse, victim, and apostle. Josefa, who possessed this spirit so deeply, was further rooted in it by Our Lord Himself. In the light of God, her special graces never seemed to her comparable in importance with that of her vocation, the guidance of obedience and the security of the Rule.
And so the promised sign was given in her, day by day and hour by hour, in every tiny detail of her religious life, while, enveloped in silence and obscurity, the unsuspected intensity of her love was hidden in her generous self-oblation.
There were, notwithstanding, hours, days, even months, when obedience, love of duty, courage and submission to God’s Will, faith and abandonment to His guidance, required sheer heroism on Josefa’s part. How often the passive witnesses of her superhuman struggles and anguish were amazed at her gallant fight, at the fidelity, liberty of spirit and overmastering grace displayed in the conduct of this simple child of the people, so unconscious of the grandeur of her destiny, and giving such unequivocal signs of genuine virtue. . . .
The story of her short life in religion is about to end with a further sign: death came as it had been predicted by Our Lord and Our Lady, who, while keeping her utterly submissive to the Divine Will, had told her clearly both the time and circumstances.
See: January 12th, 1922; August 7th, 1922 (note); May 14th, 1923; July 16th, 1923; August 20th, 1923; October 15th, 1923 (note).
Josefa, counting only on the words of Jesus, warned her Superiors that she would not see the close of the year 1923. The Master of life and death came on the date and in the manner He had announced, and in His own way put His seal on the work of His Heart.
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
BOOK THREE - THE MESSAGE OF LOVE
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
THE FINAL MESSAGE December 1st–9th, 1923
“It is My Will to speak now to My consecrated religious.” (Our Lord to Josefa, December 4th, 1923)
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
THE FINAL MESSAGE December 1st–9th, 1923
“It is My Will to speak now to My consecrated religious.” (Our Lord to Josefa, December 4th, 1923)
THIS last Advent, the most wonderful and significant of Josefa’s life, opened soon after the beginning of December. She was waiting in the true sense of the word. And the dark night of her soul was pierced from time to time by a ray of light at the thought of the bliss that was soon to be hers forever. How thrilled she was in such moments at the thought of the great day for which she longed so vehemently. Then the horizon grew dark again, all the darker indeed, for the fleeting ray of light that had preceded it.
The last lines of the Message were to be written in the first week of this same month. On Monday, December 3rd, Saint Madeleine Sophie came to prepare her for this completion of her mission.
“Come to my cell,” she said to her that morning—and Josefa went. Our Holy Mother was already there, and said reassuringly: “Yes, I am your Mother, the poor creature whom God chose to be the foundation stone of this little Society.”
After these opening words which calmed Josefa’s misgivings, she continued: “Jesus is coming! Await Him with great humility, but with joy and trust. He is the Father of mercies, always ready to pour out His loving-kindness on all His creatures, but especially on those who are very little and abject. Listen with great reverence to His wishes, His commands, and all His words, and may the Society preserve them carefully.”
Then our Holy Mother stressed what was the authentic sign for each of its members: “Tell them not to be afraid of suffering; they must never recoil from suffering, and above all (and this is a message from their Mother,) never let the graces showered on the Society lessen their humility, the most precious of all treasures. The more humble the Society is, the more Our Lord will favor it.”
Jesus was about to make His last appeal to these chosen souls consecrated to His Sacred Heart.
On Tuesday, December 4th, Josefa, occupied with her needlework, was sitting in her cell, when Our Lady appeared to her, the dawn before sunrise. Josefa renewed her vows and asked her to repeat with her what Satan had never been able to say: “My God, I love Thee and I want the whole world to know and love Thee.”
With motherly affection and enthusiasm Our Lady complied.
“She repeated the words,” said Josefa, “and added: ‘ . . . because Thou art infinitely good and merciful. Yes, daughter, Jesus is full of compassion for little and abject souls. He forgives them and He loves them dearly. His goodness makes Him incline to the lowly, and His strength sustains the feeble. Let your littleness lose itself in His greatness. And now wait for Him lovingly, for He is coming. . . . ’ ”
“She disappeared, and a very few moments later Our Lord was present. I renewed my vows and at once He said: ‘It is I, Josefa, so do not be afraid. I am Love, Goodness, and Mercy. . . . I am the Son of the Immaculate Virgin, the Son of God . . . and God Himself!’ ”
After these assurances which banished every trace of doubt, He spoke and she wrote:
“I wish to speak today to My consecrated religious, that they may make Me known to sinners and to the whole world.
“There are many among them who as yet are unable to understand My true feelings. They treat Me as One far away . . . known only slightly, and in whom they have too little confidence. I want them to rekindle their faith and love, and live trustfully in My intimacy, loving and loved.
“It is usually the eldest son of the family who knows best the mind and secret affairs of his father. In him the father is wont to confide more than in the younger ones, who as yet are unable to interest themselves in serious matters, or penetrate below the surface of things. So when the father comes to die, it behooves the eldest brother to transmit his wishes and will to these the younger ones.
“In My Church, too, I have elder sons: they are those whom I Myself have chosen, consecrated by the priesthood or by the vows of religion. They live nearest to Me; they share in My choicest graces, and to them I confide My secrets, My desires . . . and My sufferings also. I have committed to them the care of My little children, their brothers, and through their ministry they must, directly or indirectly, guide them and transmit My teaching to them.
“If these chosen souls know Me truly, they will make Me known to others; if they love Me, they will make others love Me. But how can they teach their brethren if they hardly know Me themselves? . . . I ask you: Can there be much love in the heart for One who is barely known? Or what intimate converse can be exchanged with One who is avoided . . . or in whom one has little confidence? . . .
“This is precisely what I wish to recall to the minds of My chosen ones. Nothing new, doubtless, but they have need to reanimate their faith, their love and their trust.
“I look for greater intimacy and confidence in the way they treat Me. Let them seek Me within their own hearts, for they know that a soul in a state of grace is the tabernacle of the Holy Spirit. And there, let them consider Me as I truly am, their God, but a God of love. Let love triumph over fear, and above all let them never forget that I love them. Many are convinced that it was because of this love that they were chosen, but when they are cast down at the sight of their miseries, of their faults even, then they grow sad at the thought that I have changed and love them less than before.”
Here Josefa stopped, for her strength was giving out. She humbly asked leave to sit down, and Jesus, full of compassion, gave her permission. He comforted her, as He alone can, and then disappeared.
At the same hour the following day, Wednesday, December 5th, Jesus rejoined Josefa in her cell. At once she took up her pen, and on her knees before her small table, wrote while He went on:
“I was telling you yesterday how little such souls really know Me. They have not understood My Heart. For it is their very destitution and failings that incline My goodness towards them. And when, acknowledging their helplessness and weakness, they humble themselves and have recourse to Me trustfully, then indeed they give Me more glory than before their fault.
“It is the same when they pray, either for themselves or for others; if they waver and doubt, they do not glorify My Heart, but they do glorify It, if they are sure that I shall give them what they ask, knowing that I refuse them nothing that is good for their souls.
“When the Centurion came to beg Me to cure his servant, he said very humbly: ‘I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof ‘ . . . and, faith and trust prevailing, he added: ‘Say but the word, and my servant shall be healed.’ This man knew My Heart. He knew that I could not resist the prayer of one who trusted Me absolutely. He gave Me much glory, for to humility he joined confidence. Yes, this man knew My Heart, yet I had made no manifestations to him as I have to My chosen ones.
“Hope obtains innumerable graces for self and for others. I want this to be thoroughly understood, so that My Heart’s goodness may be revealed to those poor souls who as yet do not know Me.”
Here the Master interrupted His appeal, and with much emphasis insisted:
“I once again repeat what I have already said, and it is nothing new: As a flame needs to be fed, if it is not to be extinguished, so souls need constant fresh urging to make them advance, and new warmth to renew their fervor.
“Few among the souls that are consecrated to Me possess this unshakable confidence, because there are few that live in intimate union with Me. I want them to know that I love them as they are. I know that through frailty they will fall more than once, I know that they will often break the promises they have made Me. But their will to do better glorifies Me, their humble avowals after their falls, their trust in the forgiveness I will grant, glorify My Heart so much, that I will shed abundant graces on them.
“I want them all to know too how greatly I desire a renewal of their union and intimacy with Me. Let them not be satisfied with merely conversing with Me in church, where doubtless I am truly present, but remember that I abide in them, and delight in this union.
“Let them speak to Me of all their concerns . . . consult Me at every turn . . . ask favors of Me. . . . I live in them to be their life. . . . I abide in them to be their strength. Yes, I repeat, let them remember that I delight in being one with them . . . remember that I am in them . . . and that there I see them, hear them, love them. There I look for a return from them.
“Many are accustomed to a daily meditation; but for how many it becomes a mere formality, instead of a loving interview. . . . They say or assist at Mass and receive Me in Holy Communion, but on leaving the church become once more absorbed in their own interests to such an extent that they scarcely say a word to Me.
“I am in that soul as in a desert, she neither speaks to Me nor asks anything of Me . . . and when in need of comfort, she solicits it from creatures whom she must search out rather than from Me her Creator who abides and lives within her. . . . Is not this want of union, want of interior spirit, in other words, want of love?
“Further, let Me once more tell those who are consecrated to Me how I specially chose them, that they might live in union with Me, to comfort Me and repair for the sins of those who offend Me.
“I want them to remember that it is their duty to study My Heart, in order to share in Its feelings and, as far as is in their power, to realize Its desires.
“When a man works at his own field, how hard he toils at weeding it of all noxious growths, sparing neither trouble nor fatigue till he has attained his object. In like manner, as soon as My chosen ones know My desires, they should labor with zeal and ardor, undeterred by difficulty or suffering, that My glory may be increased and the sins of the world repaired.
“Tomorrow I shall come back on this. Go now in peace.”
Here Josefa’s notes ended that day with a very simple little tale:
“Yesterday,” she wrote, “after a day of great pain of soul and body, I went through such intense agony that I thought I was dying. All the sins of my life came up before my eyes in the most startling way and I was unable to make the smallest act of trust or love.”
She often experienced these feelings of helplessness by which Satan tried to paralyze her and drive her to despair.
“The suffering was so intense that I thought my last hour had come. Suddenly I saw high up in my cell a little white dove whose head was aureoled with light. She was vainly trying to take flight, but one of her wings, still a little grey, seemed to be tied. She remained for a short space like that, then, beating her wings, flew away. . . . I think it must have been the one I had seen once before of which Jesus had said ‘this dove is the picture of your soul.’
“When He came this morning, I told Him how I long to die on the 12th of this month, the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe
Patroness of Mexico, then undergoing dire persecution, and which, like all Our Lady’s titles, was dear to the Society and to Josefa.
and our Holy Mother’s birthday. It is also a Wednesday, so consecrated to my holy Patron Saint Joseph. Jesus answered me so kindly: “And what about that little wing which is still grey? . . .”
Josefa then told Him how afraid she was of offending Him and parting from Him, for the devil’s temptations had reached such a pitch of vindictiveness.
“Look, Josefa,” He answered, “you must be further purified in love. Surrender yourself and desire nothing but to do My Will. You know very well that I love you, what more do you want?”
So this December 5th, like the preceding day, was spent in very great distress of soul and the obscure temptations of the arch-enemy.
Courageous and docile as Josefa was, she did her very best to maintain herself in a spirit of faith and love. These awful hours of dereliction which, as she well knew, were speeding her to her end left her nevertheless in a state of affliction and completely helpless. Obedience remained her one ark of safety, and it was touching to see how she clung to its observances in the minutest particulars.
Thursday, December 6th, found her in the little cell where she had so often waited for the Master. Faithful to the rendezvous, He listened patiently and tenderly to her desires and to the hope she could not hide from Him—that of dying on December 12th under the protection of the three great loves of her religious life.
“ ‘What have you done, Josefa, to merit Heaven?’
“ ‘Nothing, Lord, but Thou hast promised me Thy merits.’
“ ‘Are you not content, then, to live in My Heart?’
“Of course,” wrote Josefa, “but that does not prevent my longing for Heaven; once there, I shall see Him forever, and shall never offend Him any more.”
“Let Me choose the hour.
“And now write for My consecrated souls.”
It was the last time that Josefa would transcribe the burning desires of the Heart of Jesus for them:
“I call them all—My priests, My religious, and My nuns—to live a life of intimate union with Me.
“It is their privilege to know My longings and to share in My joys and sorrows.
“Theirs, to labor at My interests, never sparing themselves trouble or pain.
“Theirs, by prayer and penance, to make reparation for many, many souls.
“Theirs, above all, to become more and more closely united to Me and never to abandon Me, never to leave Me alone! Some do not understand and forget that it is for them to give Me companionship and consolation. . . .
“And finally, it is for them to combine together in a league of love making but one in My Heart, to implore for souls the knowledge of truth, light and pardon. And when they see with deep sorrow the outrages I receive, My chosen souls will offer themselves to make reparation and to labor at My work; let their trust be unhesitating, for I shall not refuse their supplications, and all they ask will be granted them.
“Let them all, then, apply themselves to the study of My Heart and to understand My feelings, striving to live in union with Me, to converse with Me and to consult Me. Let them clothe their actions in My merits, bathe them in My blood, and consecrate their lives to the saving of souls and the extension of My glory.
“Let them not descend to personal reflections which belittle them, but rejoice at seeing themselves clothed with the power of My blood and of My merits. If they rely on self, they will do little or nothing, but if they labor with Me, in My Name and for My glory, they will be powerful.
“Let these consecrated souls revive their desire for reparation, and beg confidently for the advent of the divine King: that is, for My universal Sovereignty.
“Let them have no fear, let them hope in Me, let them trust in Me.
“Let them be burnt up with zeal and charity for sinners . . . praying for them with compassionate hearts and treating them with all gentleness.
“Let the world hear from their lips how great is My kindness, My love and My mercy.
“Armed with prayer, penance, and reliance on Me, never on self, let them go forward to their apostolic labors in the power and goodness of My Heart which is ever with them. . . .
“My Apostles were poor and ignorant men, but rich and wise in the wealth and wisdom of God, and their watchword was: In Thy Name, O Lord, I shall labor and be all-powerful.
“I ask three things of My consecrated souls:
“Reparation, that is a life of union with Him who makes Divine Reparation: to work for Him, with Him, in Him, in a spirit of reparation, in close union with His feelings and desires.
“Love, that is intimacy with Him who is all Love, and who humbles Himself to ask His creatures not to leave Him alone, but to give Him their love.
“Confidence, that is trust in Him who is Goodness and Mercy . . . in Him with whom I live day and night . . . who knows Me and whom I know . . . who loves Me and whom I love . . . in Him who calls His chosen souls in a special way to live with Him, to know His Heart and so to trust Him for everything.”
The last lines of the Message were written. . . . Josefa noted down what her Master wished her to communicate from Him to the Bishop of Poitiers, whom she was expecting shortly, then she laid down her pen. A few instants passed in love’s embrace . . . God’s secret. . . . How solemn was the hour which marked the termination of Our Lord’s Appeal to souls.
It is a never-to-be-forgotten date in the annals of infinite Love. It is a new light thrown, in our time, on the “unfathomable riches of the Heart of Jesus,” it is a turning-point on the road of Redemption. It is the hidden source from which a torrent of mercy will, before long, overwhelm the iniquities of the world.
It is a volcano from which the flame that is to give new life and spirit to the world will issue.
It is the beginning of the dawn, before the sunrise that is to shine on the “great day of the Divine King.”
Jesus had vanished. Josefa closed her notebook and quietly resumed her needlework. Only a few pages would be added to it, for the end was almost in sight.
On Friday, December 7th, Mgr. de Durfort was kind enough to come to receive Our Lord’s last words written down for him by Josefa. Simply and with burning words Josefa spoke to him of her yearning for Heaven and of her approaching death. It was very moving to listen to her, for though her face showed traces of the suffering she was undergoing, her speaking eyes and vehemence gave such animation to her talk that it did not seem likely that the end was really at hand. She was perfectly sure of it, however, and spoke of her coming death to the Bishop with a conviction that her perfect submission to God’s Will made all the more striking.
All was joy on Saturday, December 8th, and Josefa spent her last remnants of strength in helping to prepare for the traditional procession in honor of Our Lady. She put her whole soul into the decoration of the little oratory of the Noviceship for this feast of her Immaculate Mother. She was, however, unable to take part in the procession herself, but hidden in a corner of the infirmary corridor, she watched the long files of children in white, each carrying the lily she was to lay at Our Lady’s feet.
In the afternoon she wrote farewell letters to her mother and sister, moving letters that were to be kept as precious relics, and which at her request were to be sent only after her death. They may fitly find a place here, for they show how tender and supernatural her affection was, transformed and vivified by her love for her Lord.
To her mother she wrote: “I am glad to die, because I know it is the Will of Him whom I love. Then, too, I long to see His face unveiled, and that is impossible here below. Do not be sad on my account, for death is the beginning of life, if we love and wait for His coming. . . . We shall not be parted for very long, for life is so short and we shall be together for all eternity. From Heaven I will take care of you and I shall pray God to give you all you need, and to give you, too, a happy death in the peace of Him who is Our End, our Joy and our God. Do not go into mourning for me, but pray much for me to go to Heaven quickly. I do not know the day of my death, but I hope it will be on 12th of this month. Does Jesus want it then? I want only His Will. Do not think that I am sad. These four years of religious life have been just Heaven to me, and my one desire for my sisters is that they may be as happy as I have been and may know that this lies in doing God’s Will. You must not think either, that I am dying from pain and distress. . . . I think it is just from love. I do not feel ill, but something makes me long for Heaven and I cannot live without Our Lord and Our Blessed Lady. . . .”
To her sister Mercedes,
Mercedes died at the Convent of the Sacred heart, Montpellier, on November 19th, 1942.
who was, like herself, a Sister in the Society of the Sacred Heart, she wrote more intimately: “I am dying in great happiness, and what gives me this joy is the knowledge that I have done God’s Will. It is true that He has led me through paths that were none of my choosing, but now at the end He is rewarding me and I feel only peace. I beg you to serve Our Lord and the Society gladly and fervently in whatever occupation and house, and under whatever Superiors He puts you . . . do not take any notice of your likes and dislikes. Nothing gives such peace at the hour of death as to have denied oneself in order to do the Will of God. Do not let your wretchedness distress you; Our Lord is so good, and loves us as we are. I have experienced this. Have perfect trust in His goodness, love and mercy. I am dying in great happiness. . . . The Society has, indeed, been a true and tender mother to me. Jesus has given me Superiors who have treated me with wonderful consideration and kindness; I cannot repay them here, but I shall obtain all I ask for them from Our Lady when I get to Heaven. I have been very happy in France; it has been the home of my soul, and in it Our Lord has given me innumerable graces. We have always loved each other very much, dear Sister, and now after our separation for awhile, we shall be united again, more intimately and strongly than ever. I shall be waiting for you in Heaven where we shall be united not only as sisters, but as fellow religious. Adieu.”
Though she felt these farewells deeply they did not unman her, and when she had finished writing them, she went confidently to Our Lord, exposed in the Chapel, to offer them to Him, and there spent nearly all the rest of that day.
Then Our Lady was awaiting her to give her a foretaste of the heavenly meeting. Could she have resisted her child’s longings? Josefa thus recorded the vision; they were the last lines in her little notebook.
“This evening, while I was in the Chapel, suddenly Our Blessed Lady came. She was clothed as usual, but surrounded with dazzling light and standing on a crescent of azure blue clouds which were very airy and ethereal. On her head she wore a long pale blue veil, transparent as gossamer, which was lost in the clouds on which her feet rested. She was so lovely that I dared say nothing to her. My soul melted as I gazed on her beauty.
“At last I managed to renew my vows, and she said to me in a voice both sweet and grave: ‘My child, the Church honors me today by contemplating My Immaculate Conception. Men admire in me the wonders wrought by God, and the beauty with which He clothed me even before original sin could stain my soul. He who is the Eternal God chose me for His Mother and overwhelmed my soul with graces greater than any bestowed on a creature. All the beauty you see in me is a reflection of the Divine Perfections, and the praises given me glorify Him who, being my Creator, willed to make me His Mother.
“ ‘My choicest title to glory is that of being Immaculate at the same time as being Mother of God. But my greatest joy is to add to this title that of Mother of Mercy, and Mother of Sinners.’
“When she had said this she vanished, and I have not seen her again.”
Here end Josefa’s notes. In Our Lady’s last statement, she, as it were, signed the divine Message given by her Son. . . . It was an echo of the work of love, from the lips of His Virgin Mother. . . . Her Immaculate Heart as Mother of Mercy and of sinners leads the world to the Sacred Heart of Him who is Love and Mercy.
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
BOOK THREE - THE MESSAGE OF LOVE
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
UNION THROUGH CRUCIFIXION December 9th–16th, 1923
“Soon the neverending day will dawn.” (Out Lord to Josefa, December 12th, 1923)
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
UNION THROUGH CRUCIFIXION December 9th–16th, 1923
“Soon the neverending day will dawn.” (Out Lord to Josefa, December 12th, 1923)
JOSEFA’S last days had come; only twenty still separated her from the end, and they were to be days of suffering, of grace, and of trial, during which her earthly mission was consummated.
She wrote nothing more, if we except the personal messages dictated by her Master and the last recommendations that our holy Foundress addressed to her Order through Josefa’s means. Always faithful, she confided the secret of the supernatural conversations between herself and her Lord to her Superiors after each visit, so that not one word should be lost. Fervor caused her often to pray aloud, and her words, unknown to herself, were lovingly recorded. So, from day to day, the riches imparted by the Heart of Jesus, and hidden in the soul of His messenger, were made known for the whole world.
The Feast of the Immaculate Conception had ended for Josefa in a night of extreme bodily pain. So great was her agony that she had lost consciousness repeatedly, a truly mysterious state, in which she still could and did suffer, as the expression of her face only too evidently showed. She lingered on for three weeks more, and at no time was there any lightening of the pain, nor could any alleviation be afforded her.
On Sunday, December 9th, she succeeded by dint of extraordinary courage in attending Mass and going to Holy Communion for which she longed. On her return to her cell, however, she fell into a long faint which left her completely exhausted. But so used was she to bearing pain, and so great was her power of overcoming herself, that she spent the greater part of the afternoon before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. This was her farewell to the Tabernacle and Chapel which had witnessed so many graces and such costly offerings on her part.
After Benediction that evening, Josefa was worn out; she gave in and went to the infirmary where she was to die.
An attack of agonizing pain began and lasted the whole night. In the rare intervals in which she was conscious of those around her, she smiled and kissed the crucifix that never left her hand. She spoke only with difficulty, so that one guessed rather than heard what she said. She lifted her hand painfully and pointing with three fingers murmured slowly: “Three days . . . only three days more.” The hope of soon meeting with the Beloved for an instant illuminated her face which was contracted by pain.
“Are you sure?”
“No, but I hope. . . . I am waiting for Him. . . . Jesus is so good, and it is such a coincidence that one day should bring together my three loves: Our Lady, St. Joseph, and our Holy Mother.”
Then she relapsed into silence, the better to suffer.
On the morning of Monday, December 10th, she was very weak and though she attempted to rise at the cost of heroic efforts, in hopes of being able to communicate, she could not and fell back inert, the tears of disappointment trickling down her cheeks, so hungry was she for her Lord. She could not speak, nor swallow even a drop of water, and again and again she lost consciousness. . . . Was the end near, as near as she hoped, and would the 12th open Heaven to her?
Towards the end of the morning there was a slight improvement, which made it possible for Holy Communion to be taken to her. To the very end Our Lord so disposed all things that she was not deprived of It. Could she without that Bread of Strength have gone through the darkness of those last hours of struggle?
Our Lord manifested Himself to her during her thanksgiving that day and she was scarcely able to express her grateful love.
“Josefa,” He said to her. “I have come Myself to prepare you for your entrance into My celestial Home.”
“Will it be on the 12th, Lord?” she asked naïvely.
“If you wish it, I will give you that joy,” He answered, “but will you not be generous enough to grant Me a few more days? I want them for certain souls.”
Such a question roused in Josefa a love that had no personal desires.
“Thou knowest that I am Thine, and that all that I have is Thine.”
“Yes,” Our Lord continued in a voice of unspeakable tenderness. “I am watching over you, I am taking care of you, let Me do as I think best and choose the hour.”
He then added: “I shall return tonight and you will write, here.”
At half-past two that afternoon He came. Josefa, propped up with pillows, for she had no strength left, was waiting for Him.
“He has come,” she murmured a few moments later. “Oh! so beautiful! His Heart open wide is as a furnace of fire.”
“See the dwelling that I am preparing for you forever and ever,” He said, “and what are you preparing for Me, Josefa?”
“Ah! Lord—my sins . . . my miseries . . . my sorrow to have done so little for Thee.”
“Never mind that,” He replied. “Give it all to Me and I will consume everything in the fire of My Heart; and now write.”
With trembling fingers she wrote under His dictation a message to be sent after her death to Fr. Rubio, S. J., who had been her father and director in childhood.
“Tomorrow I shall return,” He added, and soon afterwards departed.
That same evening there came upon Josefa an attack of terrible pain; she was alone, she felt life slipping away from her, she had no voice left to call for help . . . but Heaven was on the watch. Suddenly Saint Madeleine-Sophie stood by her side, and more motherly than ever, took her in her arms, comforted and supported her. Then she revealed Our Lord’s wishes to her.
“You are not to die on the 12th,” she said, “but Jesus Himself will come to you and will unite you to Himself by the closest of bonds, and that for all eternity, my child.”
Then our Holy Mother explained to Josefa that she would be anointed and make her religious profession on that happy day.
“I come to tell you this from Him,” she said. Josefa was to prepare herself in joy. “Jesus Himself is arranging everything, and difficult as it may appear to creatures, He ordains each event in the way best for His plan.”
In response to Josefa’s question, she said: “Yes, I shall be there with Our Lady, and Jesus never leaves you alone. . . . We shall all three be there. . . . Courage! Only a few days more to spend here below to merit your heavenly reward. Remain in peace, for I am watching over you.”
And she vanished.
A few minutes of much-needed sleep followed on this visit of our Holy Mother, and though the respite was a short one, the thought of the graces awaiting her on December 12th gave Josefa the peace of self-surrender throughout the pain of the day and night that followed.
On the afternoon of Tuesday, December 11th, Our Lord, faithful to His promise, returned. This time He was to dictate a last word for the Mother General. The message ended with these words: “I love My Society. I shall guide My work.”
The heavenly directions given to Josefa required the sanction of Superiors in what regarded her final vows.
On the morning of Wednesday, December 12th, there was a slight improvement in her condition, and the Mothers wondered whether the danger was sufficient to warrant the administration of the Last Sacraments and Profession ‘in articulo mortis.’ Josefa was somewhat troubled at this uncertainty, but her director reassured her, by letting her make after Communion an act of total submission to whatever should be decided about her. Meanwhile the doctor was consulted, and once more Our Lord allowed His plans to receive human ratification, though those He employed for this were quite unaware of it.
After a thorough examination, as on several previous occasions, the doctor’s verdict was that he could diagnose no disease, but that he felt a certain anxiety. This was not to be wondered at, as he was ignorant of the extraordinary graces that had ruled Josefa’s life. He decided, however, on account of her extreme weakness and long fainting fits, that it would be advisable to administer the Last Sacraments at once.
Do we not see in this the intervention of Him who leads and governs all the events of our lives, relieves uncertainties and obliges His creatures to follow blindly the supernatural guidance of His love?
The day was passed in expectation, but in peace, recollection, and fervor. Mgr. de Durfort had decided that he himself would preside at the little ceremony which was to give Josefa a double consecration.
The whole religious household, knowing of her precarious state of health, was asked to pray very specially for her, and preparations for the ceremony were made in her little cell which had witnessed so many divine favors.
The moving ceremony began at about five o’clock that evening. Josefa was radiantly happy and quietly recollected. The nuns crowded in the adjacent corridor and neighboring rooms, as her own was too small to contain them. Only the Bishop, Canon de Castries, our chaplain, and Fr. Boyer, O.P., were in the cell itself near Josefa’s bed. The tiny room had become a sanctuary.
Beside Our Lady’s statue, the tall Profession candle was burning, the Blessed Sacrament was placed on an improvised altar, and in the silence Josefa humbly accused herself of the faults of her religious life, asking pardon of her Mothers and Sisters. Then the Bishop began the prayers of the last anointing; but nothing of all this was present to Josefa’s consciousness, for Our Lady and our Holy Mother had taken their stand by her bedside, and while the sacred unctions were being given, Josefa though aware of the rites of the Church, saw nothing beyond her heavenly visitors who clothed her in a white tunic that had been brought by angels.
“See, daughter,” said Our Lady, “what Jesus in His infinite mercy has done for His little bride, not because of your merits, but because of those of His Heart. And now that you are clothed with this very pure garment, your Bridegroom will give you the kiss of peace and love. Surrender yourself wholly into His hands, for in these divine hands you are safe. He will accompany you to your eternal home, and Himself will present you to the citizens of Heaven.”
When the anointings were concluded, the Bishop addressed a few fervent words to Josefa, but she knew nothing of them, for she was still in deep ecstasy, though her attitude barely betrayed the fact. The Veni Creator and liturgical prayers by which the Church blesses the cross and ring followed, but she remained unconscious of all.
Jesus then joined Our Lady and Saint Madeleine Sophie, and it was in their presence that the newly Professed answered the questions of the Ritual in a firm voice.
“Do you consent to take Jesus Christ Crucified for your Spouse?”
“Yes, Father, with all my heart.”
“Receive, then, this ring as a sign of the eternal alliance you are about to contract with Him.”
And handing her the little cross which she was henceforth to wear upon her heart: “Receive, my child, this precious pledge of the love of Jesus Christ, and remember that in becoming His Spouse you must live henceforth in union and conformity with His Divine Heart.
“May your Beloved be to you as a bundle of myrrh;
“May it rest on your breast as a mark of love and of an eternal alliance.”
In the silence surrounding the sickbed now become an altar, the Bishop drew near, holding the sacred Host. Josefa read the formula of her perpetual vows, and received Holy Communion.
As Our Lady and Saint Madeleine Sophie went away, they left her these words of farewell:
“We shall both come back to fetch you and take you to Heaven.”
Jesus, the Divine Bridegroom of her soul, alone remained.
“Josefa, why do you love Me?”
“Lord, because Thou art so good.”
“And I love you because you are so wretched and so lowly. That is why I have clothed you with My merits and covered you with My Precious Blood, that so I may present you to the Elect in Heaven. Your littleness has given place to My greatness . . . your misery, and even your sins, to My mercy . . . your trust to My love and tenderness.
“Come, lean upon My Heart and rest there, since you are My bride. Soon you will enter this abode never to leave it.”
Josefa’s heart overflowed—she told Him of her yearnings, her happiness, her desire, that the goodness of His Heart might be known to the ends of the earth, for men do not know it enough.
“Yes, it is true. I am good. To understand this souls need one thing, union and interior life. If My chosen souls lived more united to Me, they would know Me better.”
“Lord,” answered Josefa ingenuously, “it is difficult . . . for sometimes they are so busy working for Thee.”
“Yes, I know, and that is why I go and search them out when they wander away from Me.
“That will be our work in Heaven, Josefa; to teach souls how to live united to Me, not as if I were far away, but in them, because by grace I dwell in them.
“If My chosen ones lived thus united to Me and really knew Me how much good they would be able to do to many poor souls who are far from Me and do not know Me.
“When My chosen ones are closely united to My Heart, they will realize how often I am offended . . . they will understand My feelings. . . . Then they will comfort Me and repair for sinners, and full of trust in Me, they will ask pardon and obtain grace for the world.”
Our Lord stopped as if to leave so glorious a prospect of mercy and salvation before Josefa’s mind. Then He said as before: “Josefa, why do you love Me?”
“Lord, because Thou art so good!”
“And I love you because you are so lowly and have given me your lowliness. I have cared for you tenderly . . . I have guarded you faithfully. Let nothing affright you; the eternal Sun is about to rise. Farewell. Abide in Me!”
And He was gone.
During these divine colloquies the ceremony had come to an end. After the Te Deum the nuns had sung one of Josefa’s favorite hymns. The priests had gone. Only His Lordship the Bishop stayed on in the room that seemed the ante-chamber of Heaven itself. Half-seated, with closed eyes, ardently pressing her crucifix to her heart, Josefa, her face smiling and full of repose, remained in ecstasy. . . . The Bishop blessed her, and then he, too, went away. He was deeply moved, and with difficulty hid his feelings. . . .
Little by little the nuns also dispersed, carrying with them a vivid impression of the supernatural, but unaware of the mysterious truth.
Only the two Mothers remained in prayer beside Josefa for another quarter of an hour. When she came back to consciousness the calm joy and radiance of the heavenly visitation still filled her soul. Her cross and ring remained as testimony of the mutual everlasting love between herself and the Beloved.
Her last oblation was still to be a crucifixion, for that very night her critical state returned, leaving her apparently in a desperate condition and unconscious from sheer agony. She was still able to communicate on December 13th, and as so often before, Our Lord became manifest to her during her thanksgiving, and showed her, plunged in the flame of His Heart, her own small heart. How minute it appeared to her!
“I took it, you remember, Josefa, and with it all your affections. Trust them to Me, for I love whatever you love, and I take care of all you love here below.”
Then she spoke to Him of her mother and sisters, of the Society of the Sacred Heart, the Mothers of Les Feuillants, and all those she loved. To all Jesus replied with divine condescension, then before going away, He said: “Wait for Me just a few days longer, Josefa.”
And alluding to the little dove: “We have still to break the cords that bind its wings, though now it is all white.”
And He vanished.
This allusion to the dove was a great joy to her in the sufferings which had become much worse, yet spiritual joy exceeds all the pains of earth and Josefa lovingly kissed the hand of her crucifix, which she playfully said would cut those cords and free the Palomita forever.
The community had not all been able to say good-bye to her the day before and were now invited to do so. Little groups succeeded one another and came out delighted with their short visit. Little was known of Josefa except her fidelity, and hidden, silent work, but today she appeared so simple and happy that all felt the better for seeing her. The Kingdom of God was shining from within.
There were moments when she could hardly contain her overflowing sense of happiness, and when alone with the Mothers, she threw off all constraint and revealed herself in exclamations and fervent, loving words which, though she was not aware of it, were carefully written down, for they were a revelation of the depth of her inner life and her childlike simplicity. We quote some of them:
“Jesus is waiting for me. . . . I am all ready to go, I have reached the station. . . . I am on the platform . . . my ticket has been paid for . . . and my luggage registered . . . this luggage consists of the merits of His Heart.
“I know where I am going. . . . I have no fear at all. . . . I want nothing. . . . I have given Him everything.”
And remembering the little dove, she wrote in pencil what she called her “versitos,” in which the freshness and poetry of her soul were expressed:
“Poor little dove, she thirsts . . .
But her wing is tied, and she cannot fly to the water course to slake her thirst . . .
Jesus in His goodness has come Himself to fetch her . . .
And she has drunk His Precious Blood!
Poor little dove, she cannot fly . . .
And Jesus has said: ‘you must wait . . .
And He does what He wills, and she is glad . . .
Except that she fears He may forget her . . .
So without appearing to, she whispers
‘Come my Jesus! break these bonds that your little dove
May fly to flowery orchards . . . ’
Come, O come and fetch her . . . her eyes are straining after Thee
And on the day and at the hour when Thou shalt free her,
How delighted she will be to contemplate Thee forever.”
That evening she had the further joy of a visit from Fr. Boyer, who spent a long time with her, and left in admiration of God’s work in her soul, for her surrender to His good pleasure was perfect. The end was approaching and apparently without any impediment whatever.
The night, however, brought back great suffering and she seemed to be dying. Yet she was able to receive Holy Communion in the morning, and this grace was given her each day to the end.
On Friday, December 14th, her soul was illumined, in spite of pain, with a peace and joy that were more of Heaven than of this earth.
Josefa was silent, she was anxious to avoid giving trouble to her Mothers who sat by her in turns so that she was never alone. At moments she broke out into fervent and very simple ejaculations of love. She seemed to be thinking out loud . . . She recalled the thought of her entrance, of her noviceship, of her struggles to be faithful to her vocation, and all with a deep feeling of gratitude. She would stop, recollect herself, kiss her crucifix, or gaze lovingly at the statue of Our Lady which faced her bed and seemed to be watching over her, after presiding over so many of the happenings in that little cell . . . then she rambled on:
“I am glad I feel worse, for I know that God’s Will is being done. Nothing gives such peace and consolation as God’s Will. I am dying because it is His Will. . . . I have never done my own since I entered here . . . for all those things were none of my choice. But what gives me so much peace now is to have struggled and suffered to do God’s Will, and to die faithful.”
A number of intentions were confided to her for Heaven—vocations, sinners, etc. . . . This roused her ardent nature.
“I do so love work,” she said. “I shall go here, there and everywhere and obtain many graces.”
When France was spoken of:
“Yes, indeed,” she answered. “France is the home of my soul, because it is the home of my religious life . . . this house too, which belongs to our Holy Mother . . . this little corner of the earth is indeed one to live and die in!”
Then once more she returned to the main thought occupying her mind at the moment:
“If only they knew . . . they would never seek for anything on earth but God’s Will . . . no one can imagine what a joy it is . . . it is the only thing that gives peace. . . . Ah! to die a nun, and in such peace, repays a thousand times all, and much more, than I have suffered.”
This thought was one she lingered on lovingly:
“One never need be anxious, because Jesus is so kind—He supplies for everything. . . .” And lovingly she kissed her crucifix.
“His sacred feet . . . His hands, so fatherly . . . yes, fatherly . . . His Heart! O! how good Jesus is, it fills me with such happiness. . . . He forgives, He repairs, He loves. . . . As soon as trouble comes, I feel Him saying ‘Do not fear . . . I am good, and I love you.’
“He is so good, because I am the last and least, by far the most wretched. . . . Yes, I am glad to be . . . just nothing.”
“Jesus is good, that word fills my heart. . . . I might be feeling great remorse for my sins . . . but no, I am only filled with gratitude, because He has forgiven me.
“My Jesus!” she suddenly exclaimed . . .”it is twenty-three years since Thou didst say to me ‘I want you to be all Mine . . . ’ I loved Him then without knowing Him . . . I did not know Him yet, but I loved Him already. . . . He was always with me. . . . I know very well what I am . . . but above all I know what He is. . . . He has given me His Heart. . . . It is true.”
After a long silence she exclaimed: “My God, I make Thee the offering of my life in union with the Heart of Jesus, in submission and in joy because I love Thee. I want all that Thou desirest . . . if it is life, then I will to live, if it is death, then I say ‘yes’ again. . . . Thirty-three years . . . how many graces! Especially during the last four in religion. O! how happy I am . . . to die fully conscious . . . to know that the moment of death is near. . . . O! what joy . . . what a happy death . . . How faithful my Jesus is. . . .”
So the hours passed. Fr. Boyer paid her a kindly visit and gave her another absolution. Her door remained open and many of the nuns entrusted to her their special intentions. In her delicate charity she even found enough strength to help her successor in the workroom, for propped up in bed she cut out, with all her usual dexterity, a garment that was wanted.
When evening came and silence filled the house, alone with the two Mothers she went over the various phases of her life, and these memories which filled her with grateful thoughts were less of a conversation than a prayer and hymn of thanksgiving.
Her strength was now rapidly declining and she was unable to take any nourishment, except a few drops of water, and even these caused her violent pain.
Early on Saturday, December 15th, Jesus came once more during her thanksgiving:
“You see,” He said, “that I never leave you alone.”
His tone was unspeakably kind. “I have been your strength in life, and I will be your consolation in death. And after that, forever and ever. And as I have taken delight in your littleness, you will find in Me everlasting bliss.”
Josefa could not restrain her desire to go to Heaven to see Him forever.
“And then,” she added, just like a child in her simplicity, “I shall have so many intentions to confide to Thee. . . . I have been given so many commissions these days!”
“Yes, yes,” said the Divine Master—ardent yet so kindly; “we shall contrive little surprises for them, you and I, what they call here ‘petits plaisirs.’ Let Me rest in you, Josefa, a little longer; soon it will be your turn to rest in Me. Farewell, I am with you all the time.”
A few minutes later another violent attack came on which reduced her almost to agony. She lost consciousness, but the contraction of her face showed that there was no diminution of the excruciating pain. When at last she returned to life once more, her deep joy had in no wise been affected. She coaxingly caressed the wound in the right hand of her crucifix, and murmured in an almost inaudible voice: “This is the hand that will break the cords that bind the Palomita, and set it free,” and she covered the wound in His sacred side with burning kisses.
“I was very happy on the day of my First Vows,” she said, “but I did not know whether I should be faithful to the end. Today Jesus has united me to Himself forever, and He will not allow me to be separated from Him.”
During the morning Father Boyer conferred the grace of the indulgence ‘in articulo mortis’ on her, for she seemed very near death.
At ten o’clock our Holy Mother appeared. With infinite pains Josefa managed to write the message under her dictation. It ended thus:
“May all the members of this dear Society live united to the Heart which has bestowed Itself on them out of love. May they work unceasingly, and never forget that they are His consecrated brides and victims.
“Now one more soul will protect the Society on earth, for those who are humble and little find favor in His sight.”
The afternoon began in peace, but suddenly the dear little Sister seemed worse. Her face changed, she gasped for breath, her eyes grew misty though wide open, and her agony began, though she was still quite present to all that was going on around her. Was it really the end? . . . Would Our Lady come to call her home on this lovely Saturday afternoon? The Community assembled in the rooms nearby to pray. Josefa was beside herself with joy at the thought of the beatitude that was at hand.
With eyes closed now to things of earth, she joined in the prayers and asked for her favorite ones. The litanies of Loreto and of the Sacred Heart, the invocations of the First Friday novena, the Miserere, the five Paters in honor of the Five Wounds and seven Aves for Our Lady’s sorrows, all were recited one after the other, whilst she pressed her cross of Profession on her burning heart. Then she asked for her favorite hymns.
“No,” said Josefa, “you must not sing ‘J’irai la voir un jour’ . . . but ‘J’irai la voir ce soir’!”
Father Boyer said the prayers for the dying, Josefa interrupting them with her own childlike and fervent aspirations. In broken words she told of her joy at dying all for Jesus, her trust which knew no shadow, her happiness at being nothing and nobody and poor, her faith in His mercy, her assurance of pardon and of the merits of Him whose love was to her full and entire security.
The hours passed by. . . . Josefa consumed with fever, was in joy unalloyed. She spoke of Heaven and of those she would see again there, and she promised to be busy about sinners, vocations and the many intentions entrusted to her prayers.
A fervent conversation went on between herself and Father Boyer and those who came in one by one; a conversation all the simpler because, with her eyes almost sightless, she did not notice the emotion, and admiration of those around her.
At five o’clock her veiled eyes seemed suddenly to fix themselves on some object passing before them:
“Poor little Palomita,” she repeated twice. “She is all pure and spotless now”; and whispering to the Mothers: “The Cross is shining on her breast and she is trying hard to fly away, but her wing is still held by two little cords.
“Must she wait much longer? . . .”
A few minutes later Our Lady stood beside her.
“Not yet, not yet, Josefa,” she said. “You must suffer now, but soon the time for suffering will be past.”
Three hours had gone by, they had seemed but a flash, and reluctantly those present in that happy room went away. There was such a sense of peace . . . such a mysterious interchange between earth and Heaven that they could not account for; they were far from divining the real truth. The whole house seemed under the hush of this influx of grace.
In Josefa’s cell the Cross was about to succeed to the joys of Thabor: Love’s work! . . . The comparative calm of the day was followed by paroxysms of intense suffering. Josefa was again in agony, apparently unconscious of all except her suffering and the stifled groans which were drawn from her brave endurance. With difficulty she drew each labored breath, her eyes remained dimmed but wide open, her poor body racked with fever, and the sweat of death covering her face. There was no change all night, and it was not possible to foresee when the end would come.
Sunday, December 16th, was the seventeenth month since her First Vows. About six o’clock she was able to swallow a few drops of water, to her intense joy, for it meant that she would be able to receive Holy Communion.
Jesus Himself did not wait for that moment of union, but came to soothe His little victim with spiritual comfort. Had He come to fetch her?
“No—not yet,” He answered; “you will not die till Reverend Mother has received from the Mother General in Rome directions as to what is to be done after your death.” And He added, to leave her the merit of abandonment: “It will not be today or tomorrow.”
Josefa asked Him humbly if her moans when in pain were a cause of displeasure to Him.
“No,” He answered promptly and with compassion, “I know what you are suffering, and I make your pain Mine.”
“Your sufferings are as a precious balm to My Heart. They heal My wounds, they are as sweetest honey to My lips, and fill Me with delight, Palomita Mia.
Palomita Mia et amada—“My beloved little dove.”
It is My love that binds and imprisons you, both for your good and that of many souls. But it is Love too that will intoxicate you with the pure joys of Paradise. Love is clothing you with My merits and will make you taste the beatitude reserved for virgin souls.
“Yes, Palomita Mia; during your life I fed you with little wild flowers which I Myself had sown for you. In Eternity I will feed you on the most pure flowers that adorn the gardens of the pure-in-heart. Farewell, we shall not be separated for long, for you know how I delight in your littleness.”
And Jesus vanished. . . . This was the last vision she had of Him on this earth.
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
BOOK THREE - THE MESSAGE OF LOVE
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
CONSUMMATUM EST! December 16th–29th, 1923
PART TWO
Chapter XIII. IN FINEM DILEXIT!
CONSUMMATUM EST! December 16th–29th, 1923
FROM now on Josefa would wait in darkness . . . a few more days of peace, and then the formidable powers of Hell would gather in a last supreme effort against her. But the audacity of Satan would serve only to bring into greater relief God’s victory, and her last sufferings set the seal on her union with her Master for all eternity. When the hour marked by God had struck, Jesus in the sovereign liberty of His love would break the last bonds: “Arise, My dove, My love, and come,” He would say, and in the deep and silent solitude of her last oblation, Josefa would die; the work of Love on earth was done. . . . But this was to be at the same time the dawning of a new day.
All Sunday morning, December 16th, Josefa suffered much, but the pain diminished in the course of the afternoon and she slowly regained her sight. At nightfall she grew worse and became unconscious, and it was thus, that the Bishop, who kindly called, found her. For a long while he remained in prayer at her bedside which seemed to be the altar of sacrifice on which a pure victim was being immolated.
That night and the following days were spent in alternations of relative calm and acute distress, so that both Josefa and those about her remained in the uncertainty of abandonment which the Heart of Jesus so loves.
She was devoured by thirst, yet every drop of water she managed to swallow seemed to burn and scorch her, instead of relieving her.
“It feels,” she said, “as if that little drop of water fell where a fire was raging and everything falling to pieces.” So painful and distressing was the impression it left on her. Jesus was associating her with His thirst and with the bitter vinegar and gall which was given Him on the Cross. She had lost all strength, and the slightest movement, even when two or three nuns together changed her position with the utmost care, made her pant for breath. At times she was seized with a sort of general torpor but without the relief of sleep, while at other times she was tortured in every member of her body.
However, though in the throes of such terrible physical agony, she had lost none of her self-forgetfulness and childlike joyousness, nor her delicate thoughtfulness for others and expansive abandonment. No sooner did she find comparative relief from pain than she resumed her inspiring colloquies in radiant peace.
“I am so happy to know that Jesus is making me ready, for I have done nothing, I owe everything to His merits and merciful love. . . . I no longer have the strength to pray, but I just tell Him over and over again how glad I am to be going to Him.”
A letter from Spain, just at this time, reawakened thoughts of her mother and sisters.
“There was a time,” she said, “when news from home moved me deeply, but I am happy about them, I feel sure that all will be well, for Jesus is so good; He loves them and will care for them and console them . . . I know His Heart so well. Yet I do love them with all my heart—Mama, Mercedes and Angela. They hardly realize how much I love them. . . . It is this that makes me understand what the Heart of Jesus feels when He sees that souls do not realize how much He loves them.”
The same thought ran through her head on Wednesday, December 19th.
“Souls do not understand how much Jesus loves them,” she murmured, as if talking to herself. “The more they have lived in the obscurity of faith,” she said at another time, “the more Jesus will help them and reward them at the hour of death.
“I have never been so happy, I am in such peace, my joy is perfect . . . there is not the smallest shadow on it. I am absolutely certain of His forgiveness and tenderness. . . . I have no desires. . . . I leave it all to Him. I cannot speak to Him anymore with my lips, but my heart repeats how good He is, and how I love Him.”
The thought of the children always delighted her, and as the sound of their merry voices reached her, she would exclaim: “How I love them!”
The ardent tone of her voice betrayed her zeal, she was so little occupied about herself, so interested in souls.
His Lordship the Bishop paid her another visit on Thursday, December 20th. After a long talk of which he said nothing, and some time spent in praying out loud with her, he went away much moved.
Nothing but peace and tranquil calm was felt at that bedside, for in spite of the suffering there was so much love. Josefa was waiting; complete submission to God’s Will was no doubt paying the price of souls whom she would go on helping from Heaven, winning souls for the Heart of Jesus, usque ad finem!
The testimony of the Sister Infirmarian who nursed her in these last days of her life is worth quoting:
“I had to guess what could relieve her pain or give her pleasure; she had only one desire: Heaven and the accomplishment of God’s will. She was so grateful for the smallest attentions and was most anxious that no one should be late for any community exercise on her account.”
Another writes: “I cannot say what her example meant to me during those three weeks. She must have been very mortified and very close to Our Lord, to have remained so tranquil, happy and abandoned to God’s good pleasure. She never alluded to her sufferings, never asked for water, though her thirst was very great, for she seemed on fire interiorly; if anything was offered to her, she accepted it, but never complained.
The nun who helped her so long in the care of the little oratory wrote: “I was granted the grace of a visit to her once during her illness. She received me with such a smile of welcome, for the sight of me recalled to her mind the memory of our dear little chapel.
“ ‘How well one understands,’ she said, ‘when the end comes, how God is everything and all the rest nothing . . . how quickly these four years of religious life have passed, it seems as if I arrived only yesterday as a postulant . . . then there was my noviceship . . . I had much to bear at that time, oh! how I suffered, and I almost feared I should be forced to leave, yet I loved the Society so much.’
“I remember then how, on the day of her vows, she looked triumphantly at her crucifix. The look she gave me, and the expressive gesture that accompanied it, seemed to speak of a victory won. I have never forgotten them.
“Then she came back naturally to thoughts of her childhood:
“ ‘When I was small,’ she said, ‘I wanted to love Jesus very much. . . . There seemed to be something urging me to love and give myself to Him. On the day of my First Communion, when they gave us an instruction on “Jesus Sponsus Virginum” . . . though I did not quite understand, I was simply carried away . . . the call was growing stronger and stronger.’
“On the evening of her anointing and Profession, she recognized my voice and calling me to her: ‘In Heaven I will pray for your intentions . . . ’
“Then again and again she repeated: ‘Our Lord is so good, so kind when we do all we can, which of course is really nothing, He takes charge of the rest; it matters so little whether we feel we are getting better or not.’ ”
The Mistress General of the school at Les Feuillants, who died shortly after Josefa, left the following notes about her:
“Her cell was less of a sickroom than an oratory, and lying there on a bed of pain, she seemed radiant with heavenly peace. Without understanding why, one felt something great and supernatural in the atmosphere of that infirmary cell. I saw her several times on the following days, and asked her to pray for the children’s retreat which was about to take place.
“ ‘I love them so much,’ she said. ‘I am so happy when I hear them at their games but more especially when I see them at Holy Communion and know that Our Lord is in each one’s heart. O! yes, indeed, I shall pray for them and I shall go on praying for them when I get to Heaven. . . . God has given me,’ she continued, as if speaking to herself, ‘a heart that loves very much. . . . I love the Society and all the Mothers and Sisters . . . and the children; I do love them so!’
“One cannot reproduce the tone of sincere and deep love in her words. Another day she said:
“ ‘The Novices must be very fervent and energetic in their vocation. I myself had to fight so hard that sometimes I felt as if I could not go on. When this happened, I used to go to the Mother Assistant, and then I felt strengthened. It cost me much to leave Spain, but what was that in comparison to my vocation? Yes, I did it with all my heart. What we have to learn above all else in the Noviceship and never forget is obedience. If we only really valued obedience in a spirit of faith . . . ’ and this she repeated several times, recollecting herself, as it were, and seeing in her own soul the safety of this way of obedience.
“Another day when she seemed to be in great pain, she said: ‘Our Lord wants us to suffer in many ways. . . . ’
“She was silent for a few minutes, and then went on: ‘I have suffered much, but’—and here her voice took on a firmness that was quite unforgettable—‘but one forgets it, one forgets the suffering . . . and now Our Lord is about to . . . ’ For a moment she stopped, as if ashamed of what she had almost said. ‘O! no, not reward me, for I have done nothing. . . . He is going to make me happy forever.’ She was silent in the contemplation of such bliss. Then, ‘How good God is, O! how good,’ and she seemed to relish the words which she repeated again and again.”
This tranquil calm in happiness was to be brusquely interrupted. The powers of Hell were allowed to seize Josefa and crush her as the grape in the winepress. For a time Satan would even imagine that he had at long last vanquished her and ruined God’s plan for the world.
This last assault, the most redoubtable of all, was made both on her soul and on her body, which became possessed and dominated by an unyielding force.
On Friday evening, December 21st, the shadow began to fall. A sudden weariness of suffering seized upon Josefa. She longed to die, but regained sufficient self-possession to cling blindly to the Will of God, which in any case was the habitual attitude of her soul. On Saturday, the 22nd, the letter promised by Our Lord arrived from Rome, and the blessing of her Mother General braced her, as the dark tunnel opened before her.
That evening a terrible attack brought her to death’s door and deprived her of consciousness for a long time. What passed during the mysterious dark night into which her soul had passed?
Josefa would say later that during this night the devil was given a strange power. A realization whose origin was not from within herself, suddenly imposed itself upon her mind so clearly, that she could not reject it:
“ . . . Death was the result of the extraordinary life she was leading. Who was forcing it on her? She could be faithful without agreeing to be led in such a way. . . . If she refused she would get well. . . .”
Instantly all her pain left her and she felt physical ease. But this time under this diabolic obsession, the evil spirit walled her up in so absolute a silence that she could not break through it except to say that she was cured and free to walk no more in those ways. Never before had Josefa suffered so grievously in this way, yet at the very summit of her soul she never ceased loving Him who allowed so terrible a trial to befall her.
For a short space on Christmas Day she recovered enough liberty to explain to Father Boyer what had happened and was happening in her. These were but a few moments of painful relief in which she realized the truth, and the Father comforted her as best he could. . . . But the flash of light soon passed and the evil spirit would not give way. One could feel the interior struggle that must be going on, and that made her silence more painful still. What prayers and supplications arose to Heaven for her enlightenment and deliverance! Nothing counted in that terrible trial, but suffering.
Christmas Day passed, and Wednesday, December 26th, dragged on slowly, with no change. Father Boyer was following the course of this diabolic attack closely, and said the prayers prescribed for exorcisms several times, but in vain.
Faith in Him whose love is faithful and strong, confidence in the intercession of Mary, His Mother, were the very sure support of all during these tragic hours. How could one doubt the ultimate accomplishments of God’s great work . . . or the power of Him who directs all things . . . or the love of the Sacred Heart, incapable of abandoning His frail instrument on the brink of Hell?
It was when the Mother of Sorrows was invoked that in His own time He intervened. That Wednesday evening, kneeling near Josefa’s bed, the Mothers were invoking the Dolours of the most pure heart of Mary, and repeating Aves in a low voice. No sound was to be heard but the low murmur of prayers—God knows how intense—rising up to the Mother of Sorrows, whom none ever invoke in vain.
Suddenly Josefa’s body began to relax . . . she lowered her eyes . . . crossed her hands . . . her lips parted . . . and gradually she joined in the prayers which rose so insistently to Heaven. A quarter of an hour charged with feeling went by. After the Aves came a Pater . . .”Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. . . .”
Josefa’s tears flowed silently and with her whole soul she repeated the words of a much-loved prayer by Saint Madeleine-Sophie:
“O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I hasten, I come to Thee, throwing myself into the arms of Thy tender mercy! Thou art my sure refuge, my unfailing and only hope. Thou hast a remedy for all my evils, relief for all my miseries, reparation for all my faults. Thou canst supply for what is wanting to me in order to obtain fully the graces that I ask for myself and others. Thou art for me the infallible, inexhaustible Source of light, of strength, of perseverance, peace and consolation. I am certain, too, that Thou wilt never cease to aid, to protect, to love me, because Thy love for me, O Divine Heart, is infinite. Have mercy on me then, O Heart of Jesus, and on all that I recommend to Thee, according to Thine own mercy; and do with me, in me and for me, whatsoever Thou wilt, for I abandon myself to Thee with the full, entire confidence and conviction that Thou wilt never abandon me either in time or eternity. Amen.”
As these last words were said, affirming total and entire surrender to Our Lord, the evil spirit fled away forever. . . . The Virgin had once more crushed his head, and his power over Josefa was at an end.
In a moment, suffering returned to every member of Josefa’s body and she was stretched once more upon the Cross of her Saviour. . . . Who could doubt that it was Mary’s intervention and the all-powerful fidelity of her Son’s Sacred Heart that in one moment had effected so tangible and sudden a deliverance?
The night was spent in acts of intense thanksgiving. Josefa’s body was racked and broken, but her spirit had regained contact with the graces of that blessed pain. . . . with the Mothers, too, who never left her for a moment, and to whom only with her eyes as yet she could express the humility, thanksgiving and abandonment reawakened in her, as gradually the remembrance of these terrible days faded away.
On Thursday, the 27th, she received Holy Communion, in a peace that nothing could again impair.
It was the Feast of Saint John, the friend of virgin souls, who had often come to her as Messenger of the Heart of Jesus. She could not forget it. Father Boyer saw and spoke at length with her after her thanksgiving. . . . Clearly, and with remarkable lucidity, Josefa gave him an account of the mysterious state in which she had been conscious of her will-power. Her soul seemed to have touched the very depths of distress and also of humiliation, and annihilation, which were, in very truth, the depths of love. . . .
But these things were passed and gone . . . and the Magnificat best expressed the feelings uppermost in every heart. It was recited again and again by her bedside, while she lay radiant on her cross. All the old suffering had come back, the fictitious cure of the last days was gone, and the day passed in the joy of suffering and surrender reconquered.
On Friday, the 28th, an early visit from Father Boyer brought her the grace of another absolution. Duty took him away from Poitiers that day, but he left reassured, as Josefa had regained peace and unclouded joy. At about one o’clock in the afternoon a long attack of intense suffering seemed to bring her close to death. Until three o’clock she was so overcome by pain that she remained unconscious of those around her. Towards evening, however, she gradually revived, and in pity for her poor emaciated body, they did all that could be done for her, which was to moisten her lips with water and try to ease her breathing, by lifting her very gently into another position. But as always, she was quite forgetful of self and only anxious to spare trouble to others, and words of thanks were constantly on her lips.
The night, her last on earth, was spent in these vicissitudes, and on the morning of Saturday, the 29th, the Blessed Sacrament was brought to her for the last time. What must have been the love-meeting which so closely preceded that of eternity? Josefa, no doubt, had a presentiment of her approaching end, but her thoughtfulness for others which had grown so delicate through her union and conformity with the Heart of Jesus did not allow her to dwell on the separation which would cast such a gloom around her. So in deep recollection and silence she suffered on, more intensely as the hours passed, a warning perhaps, yet no clear indication, that death was drawing near, since she was praying, too, in perfect peace today as yesterday. She kept looking lovingly at a tiny statue of the Infant Jesus asleep in the crib. The beads of her rosary slipped through her fingers as her eyes expressed what she no longer had the power to say.
In the afternoon, propped up in bed, she read her favorite Chapter of the Imitation (Bk. iii, X), and was able to say a few words of grateful affection to the Mothers. One felt that she was thinking solely of Jesus and of souls; her face alone showed how severe was the pain she was enduring.
The day was beginning to darken; it was the fall of the evening, and the deepest silence reigned in her room. . . . It was so like many other evenings, that even the Mothers who watched her carefully did not suspect that the end was near. Jesus allowed this that He might keep for Himself the secret of the last preparation, completion, and supreme consummation.
It was half-past seven, and the Sister Infirmarian asked if she could do anything for her. Night had now fallen. “I am all right,” she said; “you can leave me alone,” for the Angelus was ringing and she knew it was time for community supper.
O mystery of God’s adorable will! By a chain of unforeseen circumstances, Josefa, who had never once been alone, either day or night, since December 9th, now remained alone!
And it was in this solitude, this abandonment willed by God, that the Master came swiftly and fetched His privileged little victim home; allowing her to die, like Himself in dereliction, forsaken by all. . . .
When a few minutes later the Sister Infirmarian returned, Josefa was dead. . . . She was lying with her head slightly tilted back, her eyes half closed and an expression of intense pain on her face, reminding one of Him who had died on the Cross, abandoned by His Father.
“Let Me choose the day and the hour,” He had said to her.
Our Lady and Saint Madeleine-Sophie had told her: “We two together will be there to lead you to Heaven.” Was not this the hundredfold of the hour, when in loneliness, solitude, perhaps distress, Our Lord’s words found their realization?
“You will suffer and in the depths of suffering, you will die.” This journey to Paradise from her lonely cell Our Lord deigned to signalize by a sign, an unmistakable testimony of His incomparable love. . . .
When at about eleven o’clock that night the Mothers went to clothe the little Sister in the religious habit, what was their astonishment to find that “Someone” had forestalled them! Under the blankets, which were tucked in to the very top, and better than any human hands could have done, Josefa was lying, her arms by her sides, clothed in her grey petticoat which was carefully tied at the waist and covered her down to her feet. When? How? Who had done it? No one had entered the room since her death, as her next-door neighbor in the infirmary testified, and the little Sister, who had been incapable of the slightest movement, could not have done it, nor did she even know where the petticoat had been put away.
The fact, however, could not be denied and is moreover quite in harmony with Josefa’s known modesty; she always dreaded being handled after death. Perhaps we may surmise that Our Lady and Saint Madeleine Sophie, who had both promised to come and take her soul to Paradise, had themselves wished to give this proof of their maternal presence, a proof which was absolutely convincing to the witnesses.
The little grey petticoat was therefore left untouched just as it had been arranged and Josefa carried it with her to the tomb. Thus ends the story of a very faithful love, Saturday, December 29th, 1923.
Almost at once the expression of Josefa’s countenance changed to one of peace and serenity, and the whole house was filled with a sense of the supernatural and much grace.
On the morning of Sunday, December 30th, the community heard with indescribable emotion the divine secret of the last four years, of which not one had so much as suspected the existence. A letter from the Mother General said: “It is only just that they should be the first to receive the tidings of this grace.”
The most absolute discretion was imposed on all, since no one outside Les Feuillants was for the moment to know the favors or the mission given to the humble little Sister.
But what graces of fervor, of thanksgiving and generosity were poured out on the house. . . . The cell where Josefa’s body lay among lilies became a sanctuary. Heaven seemed close, and all came to pray and venerate her. There was a majesty about the beautiful countenance that reflected something of the serene tranquility of eternity.
“It seemed that I was not kneeling by a deathbed,” wrote one of the nuns who watched by her the next night, “but before a spotless white altar, and that around her the triumph of her oblation was being chanted by the very palms and lilies. I tried to make my prayer an echo of hers. She embraced the whole world in hers . . . souls, sinners, our dear Society, and deep gratitude mingled with my prayer during those silent hours of the night.”
So it seemed as if already Our Lord was pleased to lift the veil that had shrouded so completely the little instrument of His love and to discover to souls the burning appeals of that love.
“The night she died, not knowing that she was worse,” wrote the Sister in charge of the kitchen, “I saw her in a dream. She was most lovely, and lay on a bed adorned with flowers. She made me a sign to come near and said to me: ‘Oh! Sister, do not be afraid of suffering, and do not lose the smallest particle that God may send you. If you could but understand what a privilege it is to suffer for Him . . . you must make a prayer of your work. Say to Him as each occasion arises: “For Thee, dear Jesus, I offer it to Thee”—so that He may see that you want to be with Him and to love Him. Oh! if you only knew how much He wants to be loved!’ She spoke impressively, so that I was very much moved, all the more, that on coming down to Mass that Sunday morning I heard that she had died in the night.”
That same Sunday evening the Bishop of Poitiers came to pray beside her remains. He stayed in deep silence for a long while, then blessed the little Sister who had been confided to his care by Our Lord Himself, and went away with evident reluctance, unable to restrain his tears. After signing the Act of Profession, he declared that he would himself perform the last rites after the Requiem Mass which was to take place on the following Tuesday, January 1st, 1924.
So the year 1923 ended in an outpouring of graces from Josefa’s little cell. It acted as a magnet to the household and there went up to Heaven from it thanksgiving, offerings, and desires that must have consoled and glorified the Heart of Our Lord. Already the work of His love had begun.
At about half-past four that evening Josefa’s body was enclosed in the plain wood coffin that was to hide her from every eye. The restful face still bore the expression of a gentleness and peace that one could not tire of gazing on. She was taken along the cloister to the very place in the chapel where eighteen months before Jesus had said to her: “See how faithful I have been to you.”
These two faithful loves met here for the last time.
Whilst the Community spent the night before the Blessed Sacrament exposed in the oratory of Saint Stanislaus, so to close a year of singular graces, Josefa’s body alone kept guard before the Tabernacle where she had made her first vows.
On Tuesday, January 1st, the funeral took place. In a letter to the Mother General written by the Superior of Les Feuillants who knew how closely she was united by thought and prayer to all that was happening, we read: “I had feared that the Chapel would be very empty, considering the day and the absence of the School away for their holidays, but it was not so: His Lordship and six priests filled the sanctuary, nuns of various Orders, the little girls from the Good Shepherd Convent, the children of the day-school, Children of Mary and friends made a gallant escort to our humble little Sister after the long file of her Mothers and Sisters.
“The Requiem was sung with great devotion, and about it all was a sense of recollection which the circumstances made very moving. The Bishop gave the solemn absolution, and the procession started, while the In Paradisum led us in thought to where our dear little Sister now rejoices.
“It was raining, and the gloomy sky on that January 1st formed a contrast to the serene peace of our souls. We crossed the garden and passed the oratory of St. Joseph and our Mother Foundress’ ‘solitude’ where she used to make her retreat. Here the hearse was stopped unexpectedly beneath the Crucifix that dominates the place where the paths cross, and it was as if Saint Madeleine Sophie was giving a last blessing to her child.
“Then we reached the great gates at the entrance. Josefa was leaving Les Feuillants. . . . How deep was our emotion as the hearse disappeared.”
The nuns’ burying-place is a reserved part of the public cemetery at the end of the town, and here numerous graves are grouped round a Cross. Facing the entrance, in a vault which had been prepared with care a few weeks before Josefa’s death her precious body was laid to rest. There is nothing to distinguish her grave from that of the other nuns, but it is close to the statue of Our Blessed Lady.
There rests the humble and privileged Messenger of the Sacred Heart.
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
CONCLUSION
IT is not fitting that I should write a conclusion to these wonderful conversations between Our Lord and the little Sister of the Society of the Sacred Heart, but finding myself no longer able to refuse the repeated and urgent requests to express my opinions about these new appeals of God’s mercy, I can only beg my readers to forgive me for offering here only the response of a “poor sinner.” They will have the good sense to take it, not as the judgment of a connoisseur, but as a proof of my gratitude to Jesus Christ, Victim of Love for us, and to the Society of the Sacred Heart which has allowed us all to share in the most intimate thoughts of the Heart of Jesus.
In the unassuming and simple narrative of facts that we have read, it seems to me that the eminent virtues of the chosen bride of Christ so intimately associated with Himself have been sufficiently brought into relief, and it is therefore of set purpose, though with some reluctance, that I propose to pass over what relates to her personal holiness. Privileged as she was, and she will yet be glorified on earth as in Heaven, it seems best to me to allow her to remain completely in the background in these concluding remarks.
Our Lord’s aim was never to set her as an example to be imitated. He did not speak so much to her in order to draw down upon her the admiring gaze of the world. She was a voice . . . nothing more. She existed for the Message, the Message did not exist for her. Christ Our Lord willed that she should be a mere nothing. He never drew her out of her littleness; in fact, He continually and purposely laid stress on her nothingness, and that even when He showed Himself with the greatest radiance. Lux lucebat in tenebris.
Josefa’s one desire was to retire into completest obscurity. Nothing would please her more than if she were treated as an outcast today. It is because of this that the Message has some chance of reaching us untouched, as she hoped.
I will not hide the fact that when, following the instructions of the Master and of Josefa herself, I put her personality completely out of the picture I was overpowered by the Presence of the Living Christ. At once I was convinced that Our Lord Himself was speaking here. There was no possibility of mistake, no need for discernment of spirits; one had only to note the Voice of Jesus. In its clear simplicity I recognized it as the same Voice that souls hear at times of great grace, and above all the same that the Gospels and the Saints have let us hear throughout the ages.
Mistake is impossible. The Voice that entrusted to Josefa the secrets of the merciful Heart of Jesus is exactly the same as that of the Saviour in the Gospels and of the God of Love heard from all eternity. Deus Caritas est. From the beginning of time He has never ceased His Appeal of Love. Prior dilexit nos. If the Law proclaimed “Thou shalt love the Lord Thy God with thy whole heart, with thy whole soul and with all thy strength” (Deut. 6:5), it was He Himself, first, who urged us with infinite persistence to respond to His infinite love for each one of us. How often He has assured us that His love surpasses that of a mother. Was it only yesterday that we heard from His divine lips the almost foolish avowal: “Thou art My Spouse, and I thy Bridegroom.” “A voice of joy . . . the voice of the Bride and the Bridegroom, the voice of them that shall say: Give ye glory to the Lord of Hosts, for the Lord is good and His mercy endureth forever” (Jer. 33:11). When Our Blessed Lord tells the little Sister that He loves us “to folly,” we have already heard the Bridegroom of souls, par excellence, repeat the old prophecy in words that all can understand.
And what of His mercy? Ought we not, since it is the Voice of God, to realize that it surpasses our wildest imaginings? Yes, Lord, “The earth is full of Thy mercies” (Ps. 118:64). Holy Scripture abounds in instances of God’s goodness to sinners, and the secret history of souls is a continuous record of forgiveness that nothing can discourage. Has not the world already received messages more eloquent perhaps than Josefa has conveyed to us? Witness the parable of the vintners of the “House of Israel.” When they had rid themselves of servants sent by the Father of the family, beating one, killing another, and stoning a third, the Master sent other servants in greater numbers, but they treated them in the same way. Then He sent them His Son, saying, “they will respect My Son.” But when these wicked men saw the Son, they exclaimed: “Here is the heir; let us kill him and the inheritance will be ours.” What was the message brought by the Son? That God is charity, that He so loves these sinners that He is sending them His well-beloved Son. And behold, we have crucified Him, because we have not understood His testimony. But before dying and sending His Holy Spirit (the substantial bond of the Blessed Trinity) this only Son revealed to us the depths of God. His Gospel overflows with acts of mercy and kindness, and is in reality from beginning to end the Gospel of mercy to sinners. Everywhere repentance is exalted. His preferences are clear: for the Publican, the Prodigal Son, the lost sheep, the sick, the woman taken in adultery, Mary Magdalen, all the humbled and contrite. In the Beatitudes, everlasting mercy is promised to the poor, the persecuted, victims of injustice, and mourners both for their sins and for their sorrows. Miracles, too numerous to count, are worked on the infirm and ailing multitude who from the depths of their misery call on Christ for help, and what more poignant than the appeal of Jesus in the marketplace, where, as a beggar among beggars who hunger for happiness and justice, He cried out on the last day of the feast, “If any man thirst, let him come to Me and drink; He that believeth in Me, as the Scripture saith: Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.” “Now this He said of the Spirit (that is the love of the Father and of the Son), which they should receive who believed in Him, for as yet the Spirit was not given, because Jesus was not yet glorified.” (John 7:37–39).
He calls to Him the workers and the oppressed: “Come to Me all ye who labor and are heavy-burdened and I will refresh you” (Matt. 11:28). “I am come that they may have life and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). And before dying at our hands, He sends forth a last cry of distress: “Sitio”—“I thirst.”
How seldom is this call, which should resound at all times and in all places, and above all in the depths of Christian hearts, accepted as a personal appeal! Some, indeed, have responded not only in words, but by their life and death “et nos credimus caritati” . . . but a great number of Christians and especially multitudes of sinners have closed their ears to the entreaties of Love.
Following these heralds of God—Doctors, Martyrs, Confessors, Virgins, even children, comes Josefa Menéndez with a message more moving than ever. She is heir to an open secret, which throughout the ages has remained unaltered. This actual fact I am anxious to bring into relief. As I read the familiar talks she has with Our Lord, I seem to hear not only Margaret Mary and those like her, but the most illustrious Doctors and classical saints (if I may so name them) of the New Dispensation.
Was the Message delivered by the little Sister or by Saint Augustine? From the contents we could not tell, for the great Doctor also spoke of the goodness and mercy of God for sinners, only in his inflamed and more eloquent words: “O immense and Fatherly tenderness! O inestimable charity! that the sinner might go free, Thou hast delivered up Thine only Son. . . . O ineffable love! O charity supreme! Who hath heard the like? Who would not be dumbfounded at the depths of Thy mercy, at Thy loving-kindness? Who would not sing the excess of Thy tenderness?”
“O immensa pietas, o inestimabilis caritas! ut liberares servum, Filium tradidisti … O Caritas! o pietas! Quis audivit talia? Quis super tanta misericordiae Viscera non obstupescat? Quis non miretur? Quis non collætur propter nimiam caritatem tuam qua nos dilexisti.” (Meditation, Saint Augustine).
“I love Thee, O my God, I love Thee and would that I could love Thee more. Grant that I may desire Thee, that I may love Thee as much as I want and as I ought. O Thou who art Immensity, men should love Thee without measure, for Thou hast loved them without measure, hast saved them with a measureless love and hast given such boundless proofs of Thy charity.”
“Amo te, Deus meus, amo te et magis atque magis amare volo. Da mihi, ut desideram te, ut amem te, quantum volo et quantum debeo. Immensus es et sine mensura debes amari, praesertim a nobis, quos sic amasti, sic salvasti, quo quibus tanta et talia fecisti.” (Soliloquies, Saint Augustine).
These are the passionate tones of a mind in delirium, nay, intoxicated by grace, and we find more of them in the writings of Saint Augustine, perhaps, than in any other of the mystics.
If I read the lofty “Elevations” of Saint Bernard on the love of God or his commentary on the Canticle of Canticles, or the best known mystical writers of the Middle Ages, and immediately after open the little Sister’s book The Way of Divine Love, the disparity I find is only as it might be between a large consecrated Host and a small one!
It is the self-same Heart of Jesus who has loved, sought, appealed, pardoned, and filled with benefits the most miserable sinners. I have no hesitation in saying that it is indubitably His Voice that has been calling to us across the ages, inviting us to His Banquet, offering us closest union with Himself, and the ineffable joy of espousals to His Heart.
I will give but one example among a thousand:
Josefa spoke with special love, not only of the Passion of Our Lord in general, but particularly of His Five Wounds.
“Behold these wounds,” Our Lord said to her one day, “pierced on the Cross to redeem the world from eternal death and give it life. It is they that win pardon and mercy for so many souls who rouse My Father’s wrath. It is they that, henceforth, will give them light, strength and love. . . .
“The wound of My Heart is the glowing brazier at which I want My chosen ones to be enkindled.”
But Saint Augustine had heard the same cry, for he writes: “The wounds of Jesus are brimming with mercy, full of tenderness, sweetness and charity. They have pierced His hands and His feet and opened His side with the thrust of the lance; through these channels I am permitted to taste how sweet is the Lord my God. . . . A copious Redemption is given us in the wounds of Jesus Christ our Saviour! A great immensity of sweetness, fullness of grace and perfection of virtues!”
“Vulnera Jesu Christi plena sunt misericordia, plena pietate, plena dulcedine et caritate. Foderunt manus ejus et pedes ejus et latus ejus lancea perforaverunt: per has rimas licet mihi gustare quam suavis est Dominus Deus meus … Copiosa redemptio data est nobis in vulneribus Jesu Christi Salvatoris nostri, magna multitudo dulcedinis, plenitudo gratiae et perfectio virtutum.” (Libellus de contemplatione Christi).
Not once, but hundreds of times does this great convert, this Doctor of God’s mercy, summon sinful souls, especially those who are tempted to despair, to trust in God’s compassionate forgiveness.
And who has not read the tender supplications of Saint Bernard? “Never say in thy desperation, my sin is too great for forgiveness! No, no, however great it is, much greater is the fatherly loving-kindness of thy God.”
“Major est iniquitas mea quam ad veniam merear—Absit. Absit. Major enim est ejus pietas quam quaevis iniquitas.” (Cantic. Cantic., sermo XI 13.)
“As for me, trustfully I fly to the Heart of my Jesus, there shall I find mercy, for grace flows from every one of His wounds. They have pierced His hands and His feet, they have opened His side; so now I can, by these Wounds, draw honey from the flint and oil from the stony rock, that is, taste and see how sweet is the Lord. His thoughts were thoughts of peace and I knew it not . . . the nails cry out, His wounds are clamorous. How truly in Christ, God is reconciling the world with Himself. Open is the sanctuary of His Heart whither all these bleeding wounds lead us. Open wide is the great sacrament of the love of the Father . . . draw near, and enter into this seat of mercy! It is visible through these wounds. Where, if not through these openings, could we have learnt the truth of how sweet the Lord is, how tender and rich in mercy? Who can show greater pity than to die for criminal man, condemned as a criminal to perish? Therefore, my merit is the mercy of the Lord.”
“Ego vere confidenter quod ex me mihi deest usurpo mihi ex visceribus Domini, quoniam misericordia affluunt, nec desunt foramina per quae effluant. Foderunt manus ejus et pedes, latusque lancea foraverunt: et per has rimas licet mihi sugere mel de petra oleumque de saxo durissimo, id est gustare et videre quoniam suavis est Dominus. Cogitabat cogitationes pacis et ego nesciebam … Clamat clavus, clamat vulnus, quod vere Deus sit in Christo mundum reconcilians sibi. Patet arcanum cordis per foramina corporis, patet magnum illud sacramentum, patent viscera misericordiae Dei nostri … Quidni viscera per vulnera pateant? In quo enim clarius quam in vulneribus tuis eluxisset, quod tu, Domine, suavis et mitis et multae misericordiae? Majorem enim miserationem nemo habet, quam ut animam suam ponat quis pro addictis mortis et damnatis. Meum proinde meritum, miseratio Domini.” (In. Cant. Cant.. sermo LXI, B.C.).
In quoting these beautiful passages, I want to remind the reader of the wealth that is available in the Church’s treasury; and there are an infinity of other passages as poignant, as moving, as those whose secret is divulged to us today. We are apt to forget them, as we forget the dead. They are now once more brought to our memory.
The disclosures of lowly Sister Josefa are the literal echo of a great and divine Voice, which in every age, with divine condescension and adorable patience reiterates for our benefit the old, old truth that He is love, disinterested love, liberal and merciful love, love divinely impatient to see all men one Body in Christ Jesus. When shall we realize this craving of His Heart?
By repeating what we hold from tradition, my object is not merely to attest the authenticity of the Message of the Heart of Jesus. I testify not for Sister Josefa, but against all of us. The perseverance of Christ shows us our spiritual deafness, our hardness of heart, our levity, ingratitude and tepidity, which are in reality astounding, terrifying!
By means of His little bride, Jesus bewails our indifference, as many a time before; as He did over the disciples of Emmaus: “O foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken.” (Luke 24:25).
This indifference ought to be a subject of deep concern to us. Possibly under the pretext that “idle tales” are not to be believed, that private revelations are not matters of faith, that imagination may have had a large share in the Message; or again, under the pretext that the diabolical apparitions render the heavenly ones suspect; or finally, that it is not possible to distinguish between what is true and what is false in mystical phenomena . . . it may happen, I say, that some are reluctant to spread abroad and give a world-wide diffusion to the revelations of Sister Josefa.
The Samaritan woman hastened to tell her compatriots what she had heard from the Master (John 4:28). Mary Magdalen ran to tell the disciples that she had seen the Lord and that He had entrusted a message to her (John 20:18). How can we allow ourselves to keep back from hungry souls the unfathomable riches of the Heart of Jesus?
It is no excuse to say that there is nothing new in these private revelations, for it is precisely because Our Lord lets us hear once more the age-long clamor of His love and mercy, that we are under obligation, today more than yesterday, not to allow their sound to be suppressed by doubts and superfluous discussions.
Shall we claim to put our hand into the wound of His side before we believe in His love? Rather let us remember the Master’s words: “Blessed are they that have not seen and have believed.”
The validity of Josefa’s Message does not depend only on its intimate connection with the eternal revelation of God’s infinite tenderness towards man, but also on its manifest timeliness, and this is a point that I should like to stress again for those who read this book.
The perfect harmony in thought between the Message of the Heart of Jesus and the recent encyclical of our Holy Father Pius XII on the Mystical Body of Christ, Mystici Corporis Christi, is most striking. The Message dates from 1922–3, the Encyclical, June 29th, 1943. In the course of the twenty years that have elapsed between the two, Pius XI has condemned modern heresies, the Second World War has set the globe on fire, Cardinal Pacelli has been elected to the See of Peter, and more than once His Holiness Pope Pius XII has condemned errors and enlightened the faith of Christians. What God prompts His Vicar to say in 1943 palpably confirms the desires expressed by Jesus Christ in the intimacy of a convent to His humble servant in 1923. The teaching of the two shows perfect consonance, harmony and congruity, by which the present tendency of the Holy Spirit’s guidance in the Church can clearly be discerned.
Whether we meditate on the words transmitted to us by the untaught little Sister, or on those of the Sovereign Pontiff, we find that both invite us to rebuild a crumbling Christian civilization on the foundations of Charity. This fact seems to me to lend great weight to the Message. Christians everywhere are to be convened to a more perfect restoration of the world. God wills the inauguration of a stage of progress in the development of the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ.
Let me here show this harmony in at least a few points:
1) Our Lord seems to recommend devotion to the Sacred Heart more urgently than ever. The Revelations at Paray had dispelled the heresies of fear, especially Jansenism and Calvinism. We all know the incomparable and magnificent promises by which Our Lord had endeavored to attract timid souls. There is no doubt that, all over the world, the Church has gradually responded to His appeal. But it has taken two hundred years of persevering effort on the part of apostles of the Sacred Heart to make people, who for so long had regarded the devotion with misgivings, not only understand it, but love and appreciate it. Such are the difficulties which the love of Jesus meets with in stubborn man! And now He comes once more to let us know that He is far from satisfied with our grudging adoration and our niggardly sacrifices. His thirst is not slaked, far from it; He longs for ever more love and more trust. And He now solicits our affection in such passionate terms that we cannot doubt that He holds this devotion very dear, and that the Blessed Trinity Itself, which is pleased to take delight in it, considers it the most efficacious means of glorifying God and saving souls. The Message is new only in Christ’s insistence on the revelation of His love. Who has ever spoken of what he loves most with such force as Jesus does in telling us of His mercy? The only possible conclusion we can draw is that, alas, we do not show enough eagerness to listen to His pleadings!
Christianity today is being dragged into a catastrophe which threatens to overwhelm humanity with something akin to despair. Who will save us? Who can give an assurance that in the end faith will prevail? But once again, in the hour of stress, Christ makes Himself known to pure hearts, and tells us through them: “Respond confidently to the appeals of the Heart of Jesus, and salvation and victory will be yours.”
In his Encyclical Annum Sacrum of May 25th, 1899, H.H. Leo XIII, speaking of the signal victory expected by Constantine, of which the portent was the apparition of the Cross in the sky, said: “Today there is another divine symbol, a happy portent visible to our eyes: it is the Heart of Jesus, surmounted by the cross, and shining with incomparable effulgence in the midst of flames; from It we must expect salvation, and in It is our only hope.”
“ … in eo omnes collocandae spes: ex eo hominum perenda atque expectanda salus.”
Pius XII tells us in his last encyclical Mystici Corporis with what joy he has noticed an increase in devotion to the Sacred Heart, and the eagerness displayed by many to “meditate more profoundly on the unfathomable riches of Christ to be found in the Church,” for all our hope is in it.
2) Past ages have gone through periods of danger, and the bark of Peter has many a time been on the point of foundering. What then has happened that is extraordinary in our times that Our Blessed Lord should have sent us a new Message? This has happened: our age is one of blood and iron. It attacks charity directly, and is trying to set up a new idol, Force, in the place of its late one, Science.
Wild and lawless propaganda tries to persuade men that they will become as gods by armed force, for charity, they say, is paralyzing in its effects; they must treat it with contempt, as degrading, and leading mankind to a state of decadence. Happily the Law of the Jungle, in vogue among some today, is not God’s Law, for what could be easier for the Almighty than to banish humanity from the earth, as once our First Parents from the Garden of Eden, and condemn them to destruction or hell-fire for all eternity. But God’s strength lies in His love for erring men. He wants to have mercy on them, to forgive them and make them happy. Josefa Menéndez was charged to repeat His Message of love to them on the very eve of the disastrous war, into which we have fallen. Through her, Jesus speaks to those who have lost belief in Love. That is why He repeats hundreds of times: “Come to Me”—“Trust”—“I love you”—“I am Mercy itself.”
Likewise the Holy Father, at the same time and for the same cause, makes himself the echo of Christ’s voice, reminding us that charity is man’s supreme title to nobility and his highest endowment. If love is a very excellent thing in nature and the source of true friendship, what can be said of heavenly love, which God Himself has implanted in our souls? “God is charity, and he that abideth in charity abideth in God and God in him” (1 John 4:16). Consequently, according to God’s law, the effect of love is to establish him who loves in heavenly love, as He said: “If anyone love Me, My Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him” (John 14:23). Thus only shall we become, not merely “as gods,” but one God with Himself in Christ Jesus. In the same way shall we overcome the nations and the whole of this lower world, and even the domain of the spirits of darkness, for thus we shall possess the strength not only of the super-man, but of the Holy Spirit Himself. The Holy Father continues: “It is in the glow of this heavenly flame that so many sons of the Church have rejoiced to suffer contempt, and to brave and overcome every danger even to their last breath and the shedding of their blood.” “O admirable condescension of divine tenderness! O incomprehensible plan of so immense a charity!”
It is at this critical moment, in order to thwart the machinations of Satan, that the Message reaches us. It invites us to imitate the tenderness of Our Saviour for sinners, for the sick, the infirm, the wounded, and for children whom He so particularly loves. It reminds us of the saying of Saint Paul whose words the Holy Father quotes: “It is those parts of our body which seem most contemptible, that are necessary to it; what seems base in our bodies we surround with special honor, treating with special seemliness that which is unseemly in us.” (1 Cor. 12:22, 23).
“This, says Pius XII, is a very grave affirmation, and we remind you of it with a heart full of sorrow, aware as we are of our compelling obligation towards many hapless beings, for do we not see that the deformed, the demented, and those afflicted with hereditary diseases are being considered as a burden to society. This is not the way of Jesus who wished the law of charity to govern the mutual intercourse of men in the same way as He Himself dealt with them.”
3) That is why at the solemn moment when, amid the ruins of a society that seemed utterly destroyed, hope awakened in the hearts of the sons of God that a more lasting and solid civilization would take its place, it was a matter of urgency that Christ should reanimate our faith through Sister Josefa. We needed to hear the call of His Love, to remind us that the true society of men must be founded on a “very glorious fellowship of love,” and that Christian brotherhood must exist between nations. Mere justice, divorced from charity, will never solve international and social problems, so varied and obscure. There is but one solution for all these questions, one that removes all obstacles: it is faith in charity.
There is only one barrier that prevents the happy and fruitful understanding that should exist between workers and employers, races and their home countries; it is egoism, and so strong is this passion of egoism, that it can be overcome only by the love of Christ, by the union of all the members in one Body, whose Head is Jesus Christ.
Pius XII again tells us, following the trend of the Message of the Sacred Heart of Jesus: “The love of the divine Spouse is so widespread that it embraces as its spouse the whole human race. If Our Saviour shed His Blood on the Cross it was to reconcile to God all mankind, even if they were separated by nationality and blood, and to unite them into one single body.” And the Holy Father is not afraid of including in this charity the very enemies of the Church. “True love . . . demands that in other men not yet united to us in the body of the Church, we should recognize brothers of Christ, called to the same eternal salvation as ourselves. Doubtless there are plenty of men, especially today, who proudly vaunt war, hatred and jealousy as a means of exalting the dignity and the strength of man. But we, seeing with sorrow the wretched results of this theory, follow our King of peace who teaches us to love not only those who do not belong to the same nation (Luke 6:33–37), but even our enemies (Luke 6:27–35; Matt. 5:44–48). Convinced by this doctrine of love, let us rejoice with Saint Paul in the breadth and length and height and depth of the love of Christ (Eph. 3:18): A love whose bonds no difference in race or customs can break, no distance set by the immensity of oceans lessen, no wars, or undertakings be they just or unjust diminish.
4) But this charity which is to reconcile all men, even those whose antagonisms are most deeply rooted, can only act efficaciously by blood shed in a Spirit of Reparation. One of the most important points of the Message, the most important, perhaps, is the appeal of the Sacred Heart for collaboration through suffering in union with His Passion, to fill up what is wanting to the fruits of His Passion. By means of Josefa, Our Lord returns repeatedly to the necessity and power of our reparation.
“How much suffering must go to the saving of a soul. . . . Men rush to perdition and My Blood is wasted for them! But those who love Me and offer themselves as victims of reparation, draw down God’s mercy. That is what saves the world! . . . Glorify Me through My Heart. Make reparation and satisfy God’s justice with It. Offer It up as a victim of love for souls, and especially for those that are consecrated to Me. Live with Me as I live with you. . . . Your suffering will be Mine, and Mine will be yours.”
Words like these are said a hundred times to Josefa, as if it was too easy to forget them. Anyone who reads the revelations attentively will note how Our Lord appeals to His little victim to sacrifice herself with Him for the redemption of the world, or for the salvation of certain specified sinners who are placed by Him in her charge. These words, which recur time after time in the confidential communications He made her, express a very important doctrine which cannot be sufficiently meditated on or made known. We do not live, we do not suffer, we do not die for ourselves alone: Christ, our Head has established a solidarity of the closest and profoundest kind between the members of His Mystical Body, and the inter-communication of prayer and immolation is so perfect that we can, if we please, draw our own profit from the redemption of Jesus, and anyone, no matter who, can avail himself of the mercy and grace gained for him by a voluntary victim, united to the one unique Victim of Calvary. Here indeed we can see the originality and supereminence of Christianity. Now, the Sovereign Pontiff enunciates the same doctrine, and makes the same pressing supplications. His encyclical on the Mystical Body which is reminiscent of Pius XI’s Miserentissimus teaches that reparation is an urgent duty for the salvation of nations at war. He begs us to follow in the bloodstained footsteps of our King, to die with Him that we may live with Him, to share devoutly, daily, if possible, in the Eucharistic Sacrifice, to lighten, when we can, the misfortunes of so many who are very poor, to subdue our flesh by voluntary penance, in short, to “fulfill what is wanting in the Passion of Christ in our own bodies, for His Body the Church.” “His Body the Church” includes all sinners, be it this or that one in particular, for, by reason of our inter-dependence, there is none which is beyond being revivified, restored and saved by those who suffer in Christ Jesus for their salvation.
5) To Reparation, which ought to be a veritable obsession with us, is united both in the Message of Jesus and in the Pope’s Encyclical on the Mystical Body, the idea of constant recourse to Mary, Co-Redemptrix. This concordance of thought in both is striking and very significant.
In the familiar converse between Jesus and His little bride, Our Lady constantly intervenes, to console Josefa when she is sad, or to reassure her when afraid, to prepare her to receive Jesus, to guide her when she wanders from the right path, to strengthen her in timidity, to encourage her when her weakness overwhelms her, to give her fresh confidence in her hesitations, to help her against the attacks of the devil, and above all to teach her to follow the way of the Cross when some fresh object of compassion or reparation is presented to her. In a word, the Message taught this lesson, that the word of God will not bear fruit in a human soul unless it be by the help of the Blessed Virgin. Her intercession is at all times necessary.
The Holy Father says: “If we really have at heart the salvation of mankind which has been redeemed by Christ’s Blood, we must put into Mary’s hands the desires we hold dear.” There are so many reasons for confidence in her intercession! “Did she not, exempt from every personal and hereditary sin and ever closely united to her Son, as a new Eve, present Him on Calvary to God the Father, sacrificing her own rights and making a holocaust of her love, offering Him for all the sons of Adam who have been corrupted by original sin? Therefore, she who was His Mother in the flesh, becomes spiritually the Mother of all who are His members, and that by a new title acquired by suffering and glory.” Reparation is easier when the example of Mary and her prayers support us.
6) Had not directors and militant members of Catholic Action special need to study these doctrines? One of the reasons which induced the Holy Father to publish an encyclical on the Mystical Body of Christ on June 29th, 1943, notwithstanding the fact that war, at that very moment, threatened not only Italy but even Rome itself, was that “erroneous ideas were beginning to spread” and had become a danger to the faithful. The Pope warned the members of Catholic Action to guard against such mental aberrations, all the more that owing to the sublime doctrine of the Mystical Body, they were united to all Christians, to the ecclesiastical Hierarchy, and to the Holy Father himself.
Militant members of Catholic Action who study the Message of the Sacred Heart, will find that they are able to obtain a marvelous grip of modern errors and of the doctrinal truths on which the encyclical throws so much light. A more and more trustful recourse to the merciful Heart of Jesus, a conviction that Christ’s love is the source of all spiritual good, and that we must not count on our own merits, nor despair on account of our demerits (for divine love uses our very faults to extend His reign but is hindered by our pretentious pride) . . . lively faith in the constructive power of charity to establish among men a society founded on love . . . incontrovertible hope, that one day all that exists on earth and in Heaven will be brought into the unity of the Mystical Body . . . the urge of the Holy Spirit, directing our cooperation by prayer, sacrifice, penance, mortification, disinterested and generous efforts to the redemption of guilty humanity . . . filial piety towards the Mediatrix of all graces—these and many other benefits shall we draw from meditating on the words of Christ, and they will at the same time guard us against false mysticism, which instead of humbling man and glorifying Christ, tends rather to clothe man in divine attributes which of right belong to God; guard us too against false quietism, which leaves to Christ alone the salvation of the world, excluding and neglecting man’s cooperation; against naturalism which places its faith in the social and juridical force of the Church and human action, instead of in the divine assistance of the Holy Spirit—and lastly all those systems that disparage supernatural means, such as prayer, Confession, suffering, charity to the poor, and laud instead, man-made means, discounting the communion of Saints and of all the members of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ.
Christ’s Message contains the antidote to all the errors that, according to the warning of the Pope, threaten the faithful.
Its opportuneness, its novelty, therefore, become self-evident. All who are not blind to the evils of our times will realize that The Way of Divine Love is by no means a mere edifying biography. On the contrary (unless we are deaf to His voice), it will stand out in the history of spirituality in France and of apostolic Catholicity.
There remains for me only to state my own private reflections, suggested by Josefa’s Message, concerning the future of the Society of the Sacred Heart:
When Our Blessed Lady visited her cousin Saint Elizabeth, this holy woman exclaimed loudly: “Exclamavit voce Magna.” “Blessed art thou,” she said, “amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.” And she added these words, which were a prelude to the Magnificat: “Blessed art thou who hast believed, for those things shall be accomplished that were spoken to thee by the Lord.”
I should be wanting in faith did I not believe that the Message is inaugurating a new era of sanctity and apostolic fruitfulness in the Society of the Sacred Heart. It is undoubtedly true that however liberal God’s Will may be, it produces results of mercy only under certain conditions. His wishes must be responded to with confidence and entire generosity, if even the firmest promises are not to fall short of accomplishment. Is it possible that anyone will not do all he can to carry out God’s plan which has been designed with so much love by the Bridegroom of souls, and which I have tried to sketch in outline?
Ah! who would not love with a measureless love Him who has so loved mankind? How could any religious of the Sacred Heart fail to engrave on her heart the great words written large in letters of fire in the Message: Devotion to the Sacred Heart, charity, kindness, confidence, abandonment, total gift of self, humility, compassion, reparation, the salvation of souls, and the mediation of Mary? How could these virtues, so characteristic of Saint Madeleine-Sophie and her supernatural family not be practiced by them with heroic fidelity?
The mission of the Society of the Sacred Heart in the Church and in Catholic Action, depends on its trust in the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and consequently on the importance it will give to His Message.
Christ could have addressed souls by means of a contemplative. He chose—in order the better to attain His object—to seek for the collaboration of an Order devoted to the education of youth. This was no mere chance election. Doctrines with a moral and a spiritual bearing can only penetrate the body and soul of humanity by the education of the young generation who will be leavened by its strong principles, for it takes leaven to make the dough rise! I reflect with immense gratitude on the grace received by the Society of the Sacred Heart . . . that of training militant members of Catholic Action and future mothers of families, who, in this age of diabolic terror when some are crushed by fear and others exalted by presumption, will find in their unshakable Faith courage to win back many souls by their reparation in union with the pierced Heart of Jesus. The Message has been confided first of all to this Society. God grant that it may in no way minimize its grave importance at the present moment, but that through its means the seed may bear fruit a hundredfold!
REV. FATHER FR. CHARMOT, S. J.
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
APPENDIX
A FEW SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES OF JOSEFA’S ON HELL
A FEW SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES OF JOSEFA’S ON HELL
SISTER Josefa wrote with great reticence on this subject. She did it only to conform to Our Blessed Lord’s wishes, Our Lady having told her on the October 25th, 1922: “Everything that Jesus allows you to see and to suffer of the torments of Hell, is . . . that you may make it known to your Mothers. So forget yourself entirely, and think only of the glory of the Heart of Jesus and the salvation of souls.”
Some extracts of her notes have been quoted in a former Chapter (V) and a few more are added here:
She repeatedly dwelt on the greatest torment of Hell, namely, the soul’s inability to love.
One of these damned souls cried out: “This is my torture . . . that I want to love and cannot; there is nothing left me but hatred and despair. If one of us could so much as make a single act of love . . . this would no longer be Hell . . . But we cannot, we live on hatred and malevolence . . .” (March 23rd, 1922).
Another of these unfortunates said: “The greatest of our torments here is that we are not able to love Him whom we are bound to hate. Oh! how we hunger for love, we are consumed with desire of it, but it is too late. . . . You too will feel this same devouring hunger, but you will only be able to hate, to abhor, and to long for the loss of souls . . . nothing else do we care for now!” (March 26th, 1922).
The following passage was written by obedience, though it was extremely repugnant to Josefa’s humility:
“Every day now, when I am dragged down to Hell and the devil orders them to torture me, they answer: ‘We cannot, for her members have undergone torture for Him . . . ’ (then they blasphemously name Our Blessed Lord) . . . then he orders them to give me a draught of sulfur . . . and again the reply is: ‘She has voluntarily deprived herself of drink. . . . ’ ‘Try to find some part of her body to which she has given satisfaction and pleasure.’
“I have also noted that when they shackle me to take me down to Hell, they never can bind me where I have worn instruments of penance. I write all this simply out of obedience.” (April 1st, 1922).
She records, too, the accusations made against themselves by these unhappy souls: “Some yell because of the martyrdom of their hands. Perhaps they were thieves, for they say: ‘Where is our loot now? . . . Cursed hands. . . . Why did I want to possess what did not belong to me . . . and what in any case I could keep only for a few days . . . ?’
“Others curse their tongues, their eyes . . . whatever was the occasion of their sin. . . . ‘Now, O body, you are paying the price of the delights you granted yourself! . . . and you did it of your own free will . . . ’ “ (April 2nd, 1922).
“It seemed to me that the majority accused themselves of sins of impurity, of stealing, of unjust trading; and that most of the damned are in Hell for these sins.” (April 6th, 1922).
“I saw many worldly people fall into Hell, and no words can render their horrible and terrifying cries: ‘Damned forever. . . . I deceived myself; I am lost. . . . I am here forever. . . . There is no remedy possible . . . a curse on me. . . . ’
“Some accused people, others circumstances, and all execrated the occasions of their damnation.” (September 1922).
“Today, I saw a vast number of people fall into the fiery pit . . . they seemed to be worldlings and a demon cried vociferously: ‘The world is ripe for me. . . . I know that the best way to get hold of souls is to rouse their desire for enjoyment. . . . Put me first . . . me before the rest . . . no humility for me! but let me enjoy myself. . . . This sort of thing assures victory to me . . . and they tumble headlong into Hell.’ “ (October 4th, 1922).
“I heard a demon, from whom a soul had escaped, forced to confess his powerlessness. ‘Confound it all . . . how do so many manage to escape me? They were mine’ (and he rattled off their sins) . . . ‘I work hard enough, yet they slip through my fingers . . . Someone must be suffering and repairing for them.’ “ (January 15th, 1923).
“Tonight,” wrote Josefa, “I did not go down into Hell, but was transported to a place where all was obscure, but in the center was a red smoldering fire. They had laid me flat and so bound me that I could not make the slightest movement. Around me were seven or eight people; their black bodies were unclothed, and I could see them only by the reflections of the fire. They were seated and were talking together.
“One said: ‘We’ll have to be very careful not to be found out, for we might easily be discovered.’
“The devil answered: ‘Insinuate yourselves by inducing carelessness in them . . . but keep in the background, so that you are not found out . . . by degrees they will become callous, and you will be able to incline them to evil. Tempt these others to ambition, to self-interest, to acquiring wealth without working, whether it be lawful or not. Excite some to sensuality and love of pleasure. Let vice blind them . . . ’ (Here they used obscene words.)
“ ‘As to the remainder . . . get in through the heart . . . you know the inclinations of their hearts . . . make them love . . . love passionately . . . work thoroughly . . . take no rest . . . have no pity; the world must go to damnation . . . and these souls must not be allowed to escape me.’
“From time to time Satan’s satellites answered: ‘We are your slaves . . . we shall labor unceasingly, and in spite of the many who war against us, we shall work night and day. We know your power!’
“They all spoke together and he whom I took to be Satan used words full of horror. In the distance I could hear a clamor as of feasting, the clinking of glasses . . . and he cried: ‘Let them cram themselves with food! It will make it all the easier for us. . . . Let them get on with their banqueting. Love of pleasure is the door through which you will reach them. . . . ’
“He added such horrible things that they can neither be written nor said. Then, as if engulfed in a whirl of smoke, they vanished.” (February 3rd, 1923).
“The evil one was bewailing the escape of a soul: ‘Fill her soul with fear, drive her to despair. All will be lost if she puts her trust in the mercy of that . . . ’ (here they used blasphemous words of Our Lord). ‘I am lost; but no, drive her to despair; do not leave her for an instant; above all, make her despair.’
“Then Hell re-echoed with frenzied cries, and when finally the devil cast me out of the abyss he went on threatening me. Among other things he said: ‘Is it possible that such weaklings have more power than I, who am mighty. . . . I must conceal my presence, work in the dark; any corner will do from which to tempt them . . . close to an ear . . . in the leaves of a book . . . under a bed . . . some pay no attention to me, but I shall talk and talk . . . and by dint of suggestion, something will remain. . . . Yes, I must hide in unsuspected places’ “ (February 7th–8th, 1923).
Josefa, on her return from Hell, noted the following: “I saw several souls fall into Hell, and among them was a child of fifteen, cursing her parents for not having taught her to fear God nor that there was a Hell. Her life had been a short one, she said, but full of sin, for she had given in to all that her body and passions demanded in the way of satisfaction. Especially she had read bad books.” (March 22nd, 1923).
Again, she wrote:” . . . Souls were cursing the vocation they had received, but not followed . . . the vocation they had lost, because they were unwilling to live a hidden and mortified life . . .” (March 18th, 1922).
“On one occasion when I was in Hell I saw a great many priests, religious and nuns, cursing their vows, their Order, their Superiors and everything that could have given them the light and the grace they had lost. . . .
“I saw, too, some prelates. One accused himself of having used the goods belonging to the Church illicitly . . .” (September 28th, 1922).
“Priests were calling down maledictions on their tongues which had consecrated, on their fingers that had held Our Lord’s sacred Body, on the absolutions they had given while they were losing their own souls and on the occasion through which they had fallen into Hell.” (April 6th, 1922).
“One priest said: ‘I ate poison, for I used money that was not my own . . . the money given me for Masses which I did not offer.’
“Another said he belonged to a secret society which had betrayed the Church and religion, and he had been bribed to connive at terrible profanations and sacrileges.
“Yet another said that he was damned for assisting at profane plays, after which he ought not to have said Mass . . . and that he had spent about seven years thus.”
Josefa noted that the greater number of religious plunged into hell-fire were there for abominable sins against Chastity . . . and for sins against the vow of Poverty . . . for the unauthorized use of the goods of the Community . . . for passions against charity (jealousy, antipathies, hatred, etc.), for tepidity and relaxation; also for comforts they had allowed themselves and which had led to graver sins . . . for bad Confessions through human respect and want of sincerity and courage, etc.
Here, finally, is the full text of Josefa’s notes on “the Hell of consecrated souls” (Biography: Ch. VII–September 4th, 1922).
“The meditation of the day was on the particular judgment of religious souls. I could not free my mind of the thought of it, in spite of the oppression which I felt. Suddenly, I felt myself bound and overwhelmed by a crushing weight, so that in an instant I saw more clearly than ever before how stupendous is the sanctity of God and His detestation of sin.
“I saw in a flash my whole life since my first Confession to this day. All was vividly present to me: my sins, the graces I had received, the day I entered religion, my clothing as a novice, my first vows, my spiritual readings, and times of prayer, the advice given me, and all the helps of religious life. Impossible to describe the confusion and shame a soul feels at that moment, when it realizes: ‘All is lost, and I am damned forever.’ ”
As in her former descents into Hell, Josefa never accused herself of any specific sin that might have led to such a calamity. Our Lord meant her only to feel what the consequences would have been, if she had merited such a punishment. She wrote:
“Instantly I found myself in Hell, but not dragged there as before. The soul precipitates itself there, as if to hide from God in order to be free to hate and curse Him.
“My soul fell into abysmal depths, the bottom of which cannot be seen, for it is immense. . . . At once, I heard other souls jeering and rejoicing at seeing me share their torments. It was martyrdom enough to hear the terrible imprecations on all sides, but what can be compared to the thirst to curse that seizes on a soul, and the more one curses, the more one wants to. Never had I felt the like before. Formerly my soul had been oppressed with grief at hearing these horrible blasphemies, though unable to produce even one act of love. But today it was otherwise.
“I saw Hell as always before, the long dark corridors, the cavities, the flames. . . . I heard the same execrations and imprecations, for—and of this I have already written before—although no corporeal forms are visible, the torments are felt as if they were present, and souls recognize each other. Some called out, ‘Hullo! you here? And are you like us? We were free to take those vows or not . . . but now! . . . ’ and they cursed their vows.
“Then I was pushed into one of those fiery cavities and pressed, as it were, between burning planks, and sharp nails and red-hot irons seemed to be piercing my flesh.”
Here Josefa repeated the multiple tortures from which no single member of the body is excluded:
“I felt as if they were endeavoring to pull out my tongue, but could not. This torture reduced me to such agony that my very eyes seemed to be starting out of their sockets. I think this was because of the fire which burns, burns . . . not a fingernail escapes the terrifying torments, and all the time one cannot move even a finger to gain some relief, nor change posture, for the body seems flattened out and doubled in two.
“Sounds of confusion and blasphemy cease not for an instant. A sickening stench asphyxiates and corrupts everything, it is like the burning of putrefied flesh, mingled with tar and sulfur . . . a mixture to which nothing on earth can be compared.
“All this I felt as before, and although those tortures were terrific, they would be bearable if the soul were at peace. But it suffers indescribably. Until now, when I went down into Hell, I thought that I had been damned for abandoning religious life. But this time it was different. I bore a special mark, a sign that I was a religious, a soul who had known and loved God, and there were others who bore the same sign. I cannot say how I recognized it, perhaps because of the specially insulting manner in which the evil spirits and other damned souls treated them. There were many priests there, too. This particular suffering I am unable to explain. It was quite different from what I had experienced at other times, for if the souls of those who lived in the world suffer terribly, infinitely worse are the torments of religious. Unceasingly the three words Poverty, Chastity and Obedience are imprinted on the soul with poignant remorse.
“Poverty: You were free and you promised! Why, then, did you seek that comfort? Why hold on to that object which did not belong to you? Why did you give that pleasure to your body? Why allow yourself to dispose of the property of the Community? Did you not know that you no longer had the right to possess anything whatsoever? that you had freely renounced the use of those things. . . . Why did you murmur when anything was wanting to you or when you fancied yourself less well treated than others? Why?
“Chastity: You yourself vowed it freely and with full knowledge of its implications . . . you bound yourself . . . you willed it . . . and how have you observed it? That being so, why did you not remain where it would have been lawful for you to grant yourself pleasures and enjoyment?
“And the tortured soul responds: ‘Yes, I vowed it, I was free. . . . I could have not taken the vow, but I took it and I was free. . . . ’ What words can express the martyrdom of such remorse?” wrote Josefa, “and all the time the jibes and insults of other damned souls continue.
“Obedience: Did you not fully engage yourself to obey your Rule and your Superiors? Why, then, did you pass judgment on the orders that were given you? Why did you disobey the Rule? Why did you dispense yourself from common life? Remember how sweet was the Rule . . . and you would not keep it . . . and now,” vociferate satanic voices, “you will have to obey us not for a day, or a year, or a century, but forever and ever, for all eternity. . . . It is your own doing . . . you were free.
“The soul constantly recalls how she had chosen her God for her Spouse, and that once she loved Him above all things . . . that for Him she had renounced the most legitimate pleasures and all she held dearest on earth, that in the beginning of her religious life she had felt all the purity, sweetness and strength of this divine love, and that for an inordinate passion . . . now she must eternally hate the God who had chosen her to love Him.
“This forced hatred is a thirst that consumes her . . . no past joys can afford her the slightest relief.
“One of her greatest torments is shame,” added Josefa. “It seems to her that all the damned surrounding her continually taunt her by saying: ‘That we should be lost who never had the helps that you enjoyed is not surprising . . . but you . . . what did you lack? You who lived in the palace of the King . . . who feasted at the board of the elect.’
“All I have written,” she concluded, “is but a shadow of what the soul suffers, for no words can express such dire torments.” (September 4th, 1922).
RE: The Way of Divine Love - Stone - 08-24-2022
APPENDIX
THE TEACHINGS OF PURGATORY
THE TEACHINGS OF PURGATORY
Josefa never went down into Purgatory, but she saw and spoke with a number of souls who came to solicit her prayers, and some told her that, thanks to her sufferings, they had escaped Hell.
These souls, as a rule, humbly accused themselves of the faults for which they were in Purgatory (see Ch. V. of Biography). A few facts are here added.
“ . . . I had a vocation, but lost it by reading bad books; I also had discarded my scapular, out of contempt” (July 27th, 1921).
“ . . . I was given up to a great deal of vanity and on the point of marrying. Our Lord made use of very severe measures to prevent my falling into Hell.” (April 10th, 1921).
“My religious life was wanting in fervor. . . .”
“I had a long religious life, but I spent my last years rather in taking care of my health than in loving Our Lord. Thanks to the merits of a sacrifice you made, I was able to make a fervent death, and I owe it to you that I escaped the long years in Purgatory I had deserved. The important thing is not so much entrance into religion . . . as entrance into eternity.” (April 7th, 1922).
“ . . . I have been a year and three months in Purgatory, and were it not for your little acts I should have remained there long years. A woman of the world has less responsibility than a religious, for how great are the graces the latter receives, and what liabilities she incurs if she does not profit by them. . . . How little nuns suspect the way their faults are expiated here . . . a tongue horribly tortured expiates faults against silence . . . a dried-up throat, those against charity . . . and the constraints of this prison, the repugnance in obeying! In my Order, pleasures were few and comforts still fewer, but one can always manage to secure some . . . and the smallest immortifications have to be expiated here. To restrain one’s eyes, to refuse oneself the gratification of a little curiosity may at times cost a big effort . . . and here . . . the eyes are tormented by the impossibility of seeing God.” (April 10th, 1922).
“Another nun accused herself of failings against charity, and of having murmured at the election of one of her Superiors.” (April 12th, 1922).
“ . . . I have been in Purgatory till now . . . because during my religious life I talked a great deal and with little prudence. I often communicated my impressions and complaints, and these indiscretions were the cause of faults against charity which my Sisters then committed.”
“Let all learn from this,” commented Our Lady, who was present at the apparition, “for many souls fall into this danger.”
Our Lord stressed this grave warning by these words: “That soul is in Purgatory because of her faults against silence, for this kind of fault leads to many others: first, the Rule is broken; secondly, there often occur in such failings sins against charity or religious spirit, personal satisfaction, outpourings of heart that are ill-placed among religious, and all this, without a feeling of responsibility not only for oneself but for one or many others who are led into the same faults. That is why this soul is in Purgatory, and burning with desire to see My face.” (February 22nd, 1923).
“I am in Purgatory because I did not care enough about the souls confided to me, and because I did not sufficiently realize their value and the devotedness called for by so precious a charge.” (August 1922).
. . . I was in Purgatory a little under an hour and a half to expiate a certain want of confidence in God. True, I always loved Him very much, but not without fear. It is true also that the judgments of religious are severe and rigorous, for we are judged not by our Spouse, but by our God. Nevertheless, during life our confidence in His mercy ought to be boundless, and we should trust His goodness. How many graces are lost by religious who have not enough trust in God.” (September 1922).
“ . . . I am in Purgatory because I did not treat the souls that Jesus entrusted to me with the care they deserved. . . . I allowed myself to be influenced by human motives and natural likes, not seeing in them God, as I should have, and as all Superiors must. For if it is true that all religious should see in their Superior the Person of God Our Lord, the Superior also ought to see Him in her daughters. . . .”
“Thanks be to you who have helped to free me from Purgatory. . . . O! if nuns realized how far they can be led by unruly feelings . . . how vigorously they would strive to conquer themselves and master their nature and passions.” (April 1923).
“My Purgatory will be a long one, for I did not accept God’s Will for me, nor make the sacrifice of my life generously enough during my illness. Illness is a great grace of purification, it is true, but unless one is careful, it may cause one to stray away from religious spirit . . . to forget that one has made vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, and that one is consecrated to God as a victim. Our Lord is all love, certainly, but also all justice.” (November 1923).