Divine Will for every day of the year - Holy Thursday, Hours of the Passion, 8 PM

Institution of the Eucharist

My Jesus, my joy and delight, I see that Your Love runs, and runs rapidly. You stand up, sorrowful as You are, and You almost run to the altar where there is bread and wine ready for the Consecration. I see You, my Heart, assuming a look wholly New and never seen before. Your Divine Person acquires a tender, Loving, affectionate appearance; Your eyes blaze with Light, more than if they were suns; Your rosy face is radiant; Your lips are smiling and burning with Love; Your Creative Hands assume the attitude of Creating. I see You, my Love, all transformed; Your Divinity seems to overflow from Your Humanity. My Heart and my Life, Jesus, this appearance of Yours, never before seen, draws the attention of all the apostles. They are caught by a sweet enchantment and do not dare even to breathe. Your Sweet Mama runs in spirit to the foot of the altar, to admire the portents of Your Love. The Angels descend from Heaven, asking themselves, “What is this? What is this? These are true follies, true excesses! A God who Creates, not heaven or earth, but Himself. And where? In the most wretched matter of a little bread and a little wine.”

But while they are all around You, O insatiable Love, I see that You take the bread in Your hands; You offer it to the Father, and I hear Your most sweet voice say, “Holy Father, thanks be to You, for always answering Your Son. Holy Father, concur with Me. One day, You sent Me from Heaven to earth to be Incarnated in the Womb of My Mama, to come and save Our children. Now, allow Me to be Incarnated in each Host, to continue their salvation and be Life of each one of My children. Do You see, O Father? Few hours of My Life are left; who would have the heart to leave My children orphaned and alone? Many are their enemies—the obscurities, the passions, the weaknesses to which they are subject. Who will help them? O please, I supplicate You to let Me stay in each Host, to be Life of each one, and therefore put to flight their enemies; to be their Light, Strength and Help in everything. Otherwise, where shall they go? Who will help them? Our Works are Eternal, My Love is irresistible—I cannot leave My children, nor do I want to.”

The Father is moved at the tender and affectionate voice of the Son. He descends from Heaven; He is already on the altar, and united with the Holy Spirit, concurs with the Son. And Jesus, with sonorous and moving voice, pronounces the words of the Consecration, and without leaving Himself, Creates Himself in that bread and wine. Then You communicate Your apostles, and I believe that our Celestial Mama did not remain without receiving You. Ah, Jesus, the Heavens bow down and all send to You an act of adoration in Your new state of profound annihilation.

But, O sweet Jesus, while Your Love remains pleased and satisfied, having nothing left to do, I see, O my Good, on this altar, Hosts which will perpetuate until the end of centuries; and lined up in each Host, Your whole sorrowful Passion, because the creatures, at the excesses of Your Love, prepare for You excesses of ingratitude and enormous crimes. And I, Heart of my heart, want to be always with You in each tabernacle, in all the pyxes and in each Consecrated Host which will ever be until the end of the world, to emit my acts of reparation, according to the offenses You receive. O Jesus, I contemplate You in the Holy Host, and as though seeing You in Your Adorable Person, I kiss Your majestic forehead; but in kissing You, I feel the pricks of Your thorns. O my Jesus, in this Holy Host, how many creatures do not spare You thorns. They come before You, and instead of sending You the homage of their good thoughts, they send You their evil thoughts; and You lower Your Head again as You did in the Passion, receiving and bearing the thorns of these evil thoughts. O my Love, I draw near You to share in Your pains; I place all my thoughts in Your Mind in order to expel these thorns that sadden You so much. And may each one of my thoughts flow in each one of Your Thoughts, to make an act of reparation for each evil thought, and therefore console Your sad Mind. Jesus, my Good, I kiss Your beautiful eyes; I see Your Loving Gaze toward those who come before Your Presence, anxious to receive the return of their gazes of love. But how many come before You, and instead of looking at You and searching for You, look at things which distract them, and so deprive You of the pleasure You feel in the exchange of gazes of love! You cry, and as I kiss You, I feel my lips wet with Your tears. My Jesus, do not cry; I want to place my eyes in Yours to share in these pains with You, and to cry with You. And wanting to repair for all the distracted gazes of creatures, I offer You my gazes, always fixed in You. Jesus, my Love,

I kiss Your Most Holy ears; I now see You intent on listening to what the creatures want from You, in order to console them. But, instead, they send to Your ears prayers badly said, full of diffidence, prayers done out of habit; and in this Holy Host, Your hearing is molested more than in Your very Passion. O my Jesus, I want to take all the Harmonies of Heaven and place them in Your ears to repair You, and I want to place my ears in Yours, not only to share these pains with You, but to offer You my continuous act of reparation, and to console You.

Jesus, my Life, I kiss Your Most Holy Face; I see it bleeding, bruised and swollen. The creatures, O Jesus, come before the Holy Host, and with their indecent postures and evil discourses, instead of giving You honor, seem to send You slaps and spittle. And You, just like in the Passion, receive them in all peace and patience, and You bear everything! O Jesus, I want to place my face close to Yours, not only to kiss You and to receive the insults that come to You from Your creatures, but to share with You all Your pains. And with my hands, I intend to caress You, wipe off the spit, and press You tightly to my heart; and of my being, to make many tiny little pieces, placing them before You, like many souls who adore You; and to turn my movements into continuous prostrations, to repair for the dishonors You receive from all creatures.

My Jesus, I kiss Your Most Holy lips; I see that in descending Sacramentally into the hearts of Your creatures, You are forced to lean on many cutting, impure, evil tongues. O, how embittered You remain! You feel as though poisoned by these tongues, and it is even worse when You descend into their hearts! O Jesus, if it were possible, I would want to be in the mouth of each creature, to turn into praises all the offenses You receive from them!

My weary Good, I kiss Your Most Holy Head. I see it tired, exhausted, and all occupied in Your crafting of Love. Tell me, what do You do? And You, “My child, in this Host I work from morning to evening, forming Chains of Love; and as souls come to Me, I bind them to My Heart. But do you know what they do to Me? Many wriggle free by force, shattering My Loving Chains; and since these Chains are linked to My Heart, I am tortured and become delirious. Then, in breaking My Chains, they render My crafting useless, looking for the chains of the creatures. And they do this even in My Presence, using Me in order to reach their own ends. This grieves Me so much as to make Me faint and rave.” How much compassion I feel for You, O Jesus! Your Love is cornered, and I, in order to relieve You from the offenses You receive from these souls, I pray You to chain my heart with those Chains broken by them, in order to give You my return of love in their place.

My Jesus, my Divine Archer, I kiss Your Breast. The Fire You contain in it is such and so much that, in order to give a little vent to Your Flames and to take a little break from Your Work, You begin to play with the souls who come to You, shooting arrows of Love which come out from Your Breast toward them. Your Game is to form arrows, darts, spears; and when they strike souls, You become festive. But many, O Jesus, reject them, sending You arrows of coldness, darts of lukewarmness, and spears of ingratitude in return. And You remain so afflicted as to cry bitterly! O Jesus, here is my breast, ready to receive not only Your arrows destined to me, but also those which the other souls reject; so You will no longer remain defeated in Your Love Game. In this way, I will also repair for the coldness, the lukewarmness and the ingratitude, which You receive from them.

O Jesus, I kiss Your left hand, and I intend to repair for all the illicit or blameworthy touches, done in Your Presence; and I pray you always to hold me tightly to Your Heart! O Jesus, I kiss Your right hand, and I intend to repair for all the sacrileges, especially the Masses badly celebrated! How many times, my Love, You are forced to descend from Heaven into unworthy hands and breasts; and even though You feel nausea for being in those hands, Love forces You to stay. Even more, in some of Your ministers, You find the ones who renew Your Passion, because, with their enormous crimes and sacrileges, they renew the Deicide! Jesus, I am frightened at this thought! But, alas, just as in the Passion You were in the hands of the Jews, You are in those unworthy hands, like a meek lamb, waiting, again, for Your death and also for their conversion. O Jesus, how much You suffer! You would like a loving hand to free You from those bloodthirsty hands. O Jesus, when You are in those hands, I pray you to call me near You, and in order to repair You, I will cover You with the purity of the Angels, I will perfume You with Your Virtues to reduce the nausea You feel in being in those hands, and I will offer You my heart as escape and refuge. While You are in me, I will pray for Priests, that they may be Your worthy Ministers. Amen.

O Jesus, I kiss Your left foot, and I intend to repair for those who receive You out of habit and without the necessary dispositions. O Jesus, I kiss Your right foot, and I intend to repair for those who receive You to offend You. O please, when they dare to do this, I pray you to renew the miracle You made with Longinus. Just as You healed him and converted him at the touch of the Blood that gushed forth from Your Heart, pierced by his lance, in the same way, at Your Sacramental touch, convert the offenses into love, and the offenders into lovers!

O Jesus, I kiss Your Most Sweet Heart, into which all offenses pour, and I intend to repair for everything, to give You return of love for all, and to share in Your pains, always together with You! O Celestial Archer, if any offense escapes my reparation, I pray you to imprison me in Your Heart and in Your Will, so that I may repair for everything. I will pray the Sweet Mama to keep me always with Her, in order to repair everything, and for everyone. We will kiss You together, and keeping You sheltered, we will drive away from You the waves of bitterness that You receive from the creatures. O please, O Jesus, remember that I too am a poor sinful soul. Enclose me in Your Heart, and with the Chains of Your Love, not only imprison me, but bind, one by one, my thoughts, my affections, my desires. Chain my hands and my feet to Your Heart, that I may have no other hands and feet but Yours! And so, my Love, my prison will be Your Heart, my Chains will be made of Love; Your flames will be my Food, Your Breath will be mine, the fences preventing me from going out will be Your Most Holy Will. So I will see nothing but Flames, I will touch nothing but Fire; and while they give me Life, they will give me death, like that You suffer in the Holy Host. I will give You my life, and so, while I remain imprisoned in You, You will be released in me. Is this not Your intent in imprisoning Yourself in the Host, in order to be released by the souls who receive You, becoming Alive in them?

And now, as a sign of Love, Bless me, give the mystical Kiss of Love to my soul, while I remain clasped and clinging to You. O my Sweet Heart, I see that after You have instituted the Most Holy Sacrament and have seen the enormous ingratitude and the offenses of the creatures at the excesses of Your Love, although wounded and embittered, You do not draw back; rather, You want to drown everything in the immensity of Your Love. I see You, O Jesus, as You administer Yourself to Your apostles, and then You add that they too must do what You have done, giving them authority to consecrate; and so You ordain them priests and institute the other Sacraments. Thus You take care of everything, and You repair for everything: the sermons badly given, the Sacraments administered and received without disposition, and therefore without effects; the mistaken vocations of priests, on their part and on the part of those who ordain them, not using all means in order to discern the true vocations. Ah, nothing escapes You, O Jesus, and I intend to follow You and to repair for all these offenses. Then, after You have given fulfillment to everything, You gather Your apostles and set out for the Garden of Gethsemane, to begin Your sorrowful Passion. I will follow You in everything, to keep You faithful company.