I have left the room of the Blessed Mother. I am back in the garden where
our Lord's tomb is situated. It is difficult for me to know the time. It
is truly dark; there are stars in the black canopy of the heavens, but
there is no bright moonlight.
I notice the three Roman soldiers. They are sound asleep, having wrapped
their mantles about their bodies as blankets against the chill. They have
no comfortable position, leaning against rocks, their bodies stretched upon
hard, damp ground. I am given to understand that these soldiers, as all
Roman soldiers, are accustomed to a truly rugged life. Their sleep is
deep, due partly to the wine they have consumed and the deep sleep God
permits them to have as His glorious plan for mankind unfolds.
I feel myself drawn closer to the tomb. I move until I am perhaps fifteen
to twenty feet from the massive stone slab covering the entrance to the tomb.
Suddenly, I hear the most wondrous sound. It is a sound of harmonious
voices raised in song. It is a heavenly sound for I am instantly lifted up
in my soul and then can understand the words of this angelic song.
"Glory to God Who is everlasting. All Praise to the Trinity, Father, Son,
and Holy Spirit. Rejoice all Heaven and earth, for the Son of God has
truly triumphed. Death has been conquered. He has kept His promise, and
now the Glory of God is revealed."
And to my eyes, in this interior vision, it seems as if all darkness is
forever dispelled. There is no 'night' as I beheld it only a moment ago.
There is light-everywhere-indescribable, brilliant, emanating from a source
that, I am given to understand, is the very Life of all Creation, God
Himself. And still I am given to understand that what I am given to see is
but a mere fraction of this glorious light, this Power and Majesty which
causes all creation to have its being.
Within this wondrous light, more magnificent than any human words can
describe are those beings who take their form from the light. These
heavenly beings, angels, fill the vault of the heavens and seem to draw
closer to the earth, bringing this splendid light with them.
Why can not the Roman soldiers hear such glory, for it is glory that
approaches? Even in their sated sleep the sound must penetrate, for I can
feel the earth beneath my feet tremble at the sound. Not a trembling as on
Good Friday when the earth shook and was rent asunder. This is the
trembling of awe, of respect before the Almighty. The light is almost too
brilliant to behold. I know the Good Lord supports me, and allows me to
'see' that which no mortal eye could behold. I want to run forward, to
shout and wake the soldiers, but I cannot move, and my eyes remain fixed.
I am looking east, where the pre-dawn sky will soon form, developing its
rose-purple hues, changing to pink, and then transforming to gold. East,
where the new day is approaching, is yet veiled by night's overwhelming
And with my eyes thus transfixed, I see even brighter than the light,
which Heaven has sent to illuminate the earth, a light of gold. It is so
intense, so pulsating and dazzling, that all the other heavenly light pales
by comparison. I do not think of time. I do not think time exists in what
I am privileged to see. It can only be expressed thus: On the far eastern
horizon, I behold what I describe as an orb of resplendent gold. It seems
to remain in position and then, suddenly, with speed beyond my ability to
describe, this golden orb moves. To say it 'shoots' or 'streaks' the sky
is to be foolhardy, relying on finite words to describe the infinite. This
movement can best be described as moving from the far eastern horizon to
the very garden where I stand transfixed, in less than a second. And this
golden orb comes with the sound of a great wind, accompanied by an
ever-increasing sound of angel voices whose voices rise higher and higher
The golden orb pierces, without making either mark or sound, the great
stone slab in front of the tomb, and in the tiny cracks where the seal is
not perfect, golden light spills out into the garden. It is so intense
that the tome cannot contain it. It is spilling out upon the ground,
touching the soldiers. This light pierces even the one soldier atop the tomb.
I feel myself fall to my knees in the sight of God's glory! I am given to
understand that the golden orb is the Divine Soul of our Dear Lord. The
soul, so beautiful as to surpass all beauty, enters into the tomb.
I am not permitted to see our Blessed Lord's soul re-enter His Sacred
Body, for I am told that this shall be revealed to the just in Heaven, so
great and glorious a mystery it is! So magnificent that human intelligence
cannot grasp its significance, nor give due praise to the Father from Whom
all life emanates, and is meant to reflect a semblance of this same golden
light as I have seen representing Jesus' soul. The praises of the angels
have reached a crescendo! No human voice could come close; no human
instrument could ever repeat the sound. At its height I realize that the
light is actually coming through the rock, straight through it. And in
awe, in deepest respect, I behold walking through the rock the resurrected
body, glorified, of Jesus Christ, God and Savior.
I bow, lying prostrate before Him. He is beyond description. I cannot
begin to find a single word. The destruction, which His mortal body
underwent from Holy Thursday till His death upon the cross, has been
totally annihilated. From Him radiates, pulsates, beams of golden rays of
light that pierce, penetrate, and probe the creature. I am awash in this
light. The soldiers are also, but they remain unaware of it. I do not
My beloved Jesus is suspended above the ground. He is clothed in
snow-white garments that, for me, seem to be woven of light. There is only
resplendence, and I am drawn to look at His hands, His feet, and His Sacred
side, where the nails pierced, where the soldier's lance pierced,
fountains, oceans of light stream outward as Jesus still gives Himself to
us. Though I do not move, nor do I utter any words, yet I realize my Jesus
sees me. He smiles with such Love, and I am at once encased in the warmth
of His Loving, Merciful Embrace. I am drawn to Him. I do not ever desire
to leave Him, my Lord and my God. Jesus smiles, and His hand is raised in
blessing. Then as quickly as all of these miracles have transpired, my
Jesus is gone, and the darkness of night, or rather early morning, once
again fills the garden, and the soldiers slumber on.
But my soul, wretched and miserable, has beheld my God. I am filled with
joy beyond words, and pure hope lifts me to my feet. He has given me His
Peace. It is part of His Glory. I cling to it, savor and treasure it as
the interior vision ends.