A Call To Peace DAILY CATHOLIC for March 27-29
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no. 62

Father, into Thy hands I commend My Spirit INTRODUCTION: These Meditative Lessons on the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary which encompass the Passion and Death of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ were imparted via both interior visions and interior locutions to Cyndi Cain, the Hidden Flower of the Immaculate Heart from the Blessed Mother of God during Lent in 1993. Cyndi relates that, "while I saw many details in these interior visions, only certain details were to be written down. Therefore, these lessons are not meant to be a detailed geographical or historical account, nor are they meant to pinpoint all the intricate details one might wish to have knowledge of regarding the Passion of Our Lord...for the importance of each lesson lies not in the descriptive passage or dialogue, but in Our Lady's own meditations which follow each interior vision. These meditations are meant to strengthen us in our faith during this our exile - particularly in these end times when the Holy Catholic Church will be ripped apart by apostasy and schism...for Our Blessed Mother wants our faith to be as strong as an anchor. For our faith to be such, we must have the faith of a simple, little child." During Lent we bring these to you and ask the Holy Spirit to give all the enlightenment and discernment to learn and grow from these meditative lessons that all may persevere in the time of the Great Darkness which looms ever closer. For those who would like the complete works of "It is Consummated!, as well as the books on the Joyful Mysteries - "Come, Let us Adore Him", and the Glorious Mysteries - "My Lord and my God!", click on BOOKS.
Meditative Lesson 9:
Part One

It is Consummated!

          Dear Father, It is Sunday evening and I am comforted in my prayer by Jesus who says: "Peace, My Dear One. My Mother will now speak to you. Yes, you are hidden in My Sacred Wounds and you are nailed there with Me, your God. Write what is given to you, for I want all of my children to come to Me, their crucified Savior, to be washed clean in My Sacred Blood. No repentant heart will be rejected, no matter the immensity of the crime. For I am God and Mercy is Mine. Come, learn My Way - the Way of the Cross." And I begin.
    "Who his own self bore our sins in his body upon the tree: that we, being dead to sins, should live to justice: by whose stripes you were healed."
    Peter 2: 24

      It is now daylight, with a clear, cloudless sky, and I am so grateful for the warmth and the light. At least it seems that the demonic shadows which danced and leaped throughout Jerusalem have become less visible. I say "less" because it is true that the air is still permeated with an uneasiness, a feverish restlessness propelled by hatred!

      I am moving, weaving my way in and around people who are beginning to crowd the street; many headed for the Temple. Many vendors, many buyers. In short, all of Jerusalem has begun to move and it is truly a crowded, noisy and dirty city!

      As I move I understand from the Mother of God that Our Dear Lord is now before Pilate for the second time. She tells me that all night Jesus has been maltreated. He has been beaten going to and from the Sanhedrin to Pilate, from Pilate to Herod, and back again to Pilate.

      During the eternity of the long passage from dark to day, Jesus was thrown into a prison cell while the Temple guards and Pilateís Roman guards verbally argued over custody of the prisoner. The Temple guards had demanded their rightful duty under the law to "protect" the prisoner because the Roman governor had not yet made any ruling in the case. And here, in a prison cell, in Herodís court, these Temple guards abused our Lord and God dreadfully, pulling him this way and that. They yanked out his long hair in places, and even part of His beard. He was knocked against every stair, drug deliberately through every pile of filth, and when thrown headlong into a cell, hit His Sacred Head with such force that, had God not sustained Him, the blow would have killed Him.

      The verbal abuse has been continuous and no less cruel to Jesusí ears which were made only to hear heavenly music. And His garments, once clean and pure, reflect His treatment for it is shredded in places where His sacred body has been pulled across the rough stone streets and down deep stairwells and back up again.

      Exhausted in body from His agony at Gethsemane, our Lord has had no rest, and no one has given Him even a sip of water or a dirty rag to wipe His face.

      I come into a courtyard where I see many Roman soldiers of varying ranks standing. They are in uniform, but not all wear their full dress uniforms.

      Off to my left there is a barracks where most of the soldiers live, and another building that is detached and set off to the back in the stable for the mounted soldiers.

      There has gathered a small crowd of people, those citizens of Jerusalem who, living elbow-to-elbow with the Romans as they do, know when something is taking place. These people, not unlike many today, spend their time idly watching the justice of Rome being carried o out and then spreading the gory details among all the people.

      Although it is an open courtyard and sunlight spills everywhere, except under those porches which lead into the lower regions of Pilateís court, I shiver, finding it a sinister place.


March 27-29, 1998     volume 9, no. 62    IT IS CONSUMMATED

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