DAILY CATHOLIC   WEDNESDAY, March 11 1998   volume 9, no. 50


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 6:


part one

     Dear Father, Our Blessed Mother is so sad because so few of her children honor Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. She says we must return to reverence for Jesus Truly Present in the Eucharist, for it alone shall be our True Refuge in the days of chastisement, at the moment of Godís Justice. I feel I have so inadequately described the Last Supper, the sublime mystery and miracle of Jesusí Everlasting Presence for us. But my own human wretchedness cannot find words, yet, peace comes and I again am urged to write, knowing that with each stroke of the pen by Godís Will my own earthly crucifixion takes place.

"Watch ye and pray that ye enter not into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh weak."

Matthew 20: 41

     I find myself in a very quiet spot and I feel that I am totally alone. There is only darkness for me, and an overwhelming sense of abandonment. O! It is truly dreadful, for there is no sound, neither of nature nor of human beings. I try to pray, begging for understanding but it is as if I have been plunged into a deep abyss where I am concealed even from God. It is desolation beyond words. Tears flow and I cannot stop them.

      It is then that our heavenly Mother speaks. Her voice so soft and gentle. She tells me I am in the Garden of Gethsemane, and that I have felt a minute amount of the dreadful torture of Jesus as He prayed and prayed before going to meet his enemies - His betrayer.

      I understand much more why Jesus asked Peter, James and John to pray and keep watch with Him. As his hour drew nigh His Father, exacting His infinite justice, withdrew His presence from His Only Begotten Son, allowing in His Divine Will that all of mankindís evils, weaknesses, and frailties should gather as one and belong to Jesus, the Man, who felt in His humanity the full burden of every soul that has been, is now and will be until the end of time. In our finite minds we cannot grasp this, yet we must believe it, for each of us has caused Jesus to sweat bloodósacred blood. Each of us is a drop of that sacred blood, the flail of the scourge, the terrible penetrating pain of the thorns, the humiliation of our Dear Lord, each of us is part of the weight of the Cross, the spittle and beating, each one of us is a pounding of the nail, the terrible dropping of the cross into place, and the slow agonizing death.

      Now I see my Jesus as He kneels in prayer, His head resting upon a rock over which an olive tree bends low its branches, as if it wished to give comfort to the Divine Lamb of God, but in obedience remains mute, motionless. And I find that I move forward, closer, until, if I dared to reach out, I could touch my Savior.

      But I dare not and I fall to my knees. I pray. Not with words for there are none, but with all my heart, calling upon my Father to have mercy, to forgive me, and, yes, to thank Him for all He has done. Even in this place of dreadful anguish and sorrow, I, the sinner, recognize Godís mercy, and my soul shouts for joy for salvation is close at hand.

      Jesus raises His head and now that there has risen the moon and is sheds light into this spot, I see clearly that every pore upon His most sacred body oozes blood. His tunic, so Immaculate at the Last Supper, is damp, stained by His blood. His hair is damp, as is His face, and His eyes have, for the moment, become dulled by the agony of sweating blood.

      "Father," Jesus implores, His voice audible to me but reaching no further. "If it be possible, allow this chalice to pass from Me. But, Father, not My will, but Yours be done."

      And He remains as a statue, so wrapped is He in prayer, and I see Him shudder as if feverish. But then I am directed to look where Jesus is looking and I behold a nightmare beyond words. Jesus sees the sins of the world. Every soul, in infinite detail which by the free will of man, rejects the Divine Will. From the slightest offense to the most atrocious sins, all parade before Jesus and with each one satan howls in triumph and sneers at Jesus in His Sacred Agony. Then, by Godís Will alone, does satan have the power to show to Jesus, Godís own Son, every soul from all time who will disown Him and freely choose by his own free will to spend eternity in Hell! Jesus must watch as these souls, which I see as dying embers, pass before Him and are lost in a dark abyss. And each soul, which has chosen this path, shouts such blasphemy at our Lord that I, too, shudder and wish the dreadful vision to end. And I understand that for each one of these soulsóthese dying embers falling into Hell, Jesus sweats yet more blood and prays for them with a love we cannot fathom, but which is always there for us.