The darkness has become so intense that it is impossible to see the edge
of the mount. Jesus, having taken the vinegar soaked sponge, and being
reviled by its bitterness, now enters upon His final death agony.
O! There can be no words to describe what His Sacred Body endured for us.
Death’s grip squeezes life from Him. His Body contorts in awful spasms
leaving each muscle and nerve lifeless. His feet convulse, and the
convulsions spread up His limbs, pass to His abdomen and distort His chest
as every bone is made visible. The arms, too, tremble and convulse, and
His head is thrown back against the cross, driving the thorns even deeper.
The wave of convulsions leaves Him hanging lifeless upon the cross and I
hear the Blessed Mother sob, "O! Son!"
Jesus’ head lifts. His eyes now covered by death’s veil look upward
toward Heaven. And now there is one breath left, one ounce of will which
collects and is released in one awesome cry of power, love, obedience, and
victory. Into the darkness Jesus Christ cries out, "It is consummated!
Immediately His head bends forward, leaning slightly upon the right
shoulder, and upon the chest which no longer struggles to breathe. And
Mary, with John, moves even closer, embracing now the feet of Jesus, and
the other Marys now come and begin the anointing of His Sacred Body with
their holy tears.
This all occurs in a few seconds, before any Roman soldiers can protest.
And even then, seeing the women and John gathered around Jesus, they cannot
intervene for God’s Awesome Power strikes at that moment. I see the soul
of Jesus leave His Body. It appears to me as a light more dazzling than
the sun, and its movement is so swift that words cannot describe it.
All the Heavens are opened. The earth and all nature revolt at the
deicide. There is a sound of awesome power and the very mount is shaken as
a terrible earthquake strikes. Large fissures split the hard ground, and
bolt down the side of the mount into Jerusalem itself. Wind whips at the
people who scream and throw themselves upon the ground in hysterical fear.
Rain and hail strike everywhere, while great peels of thunder and awesome
streaks of lightning completely rent the sky and reveal in a luminous
moment of stasis, the Crucifix, the Mother, the Disciple, and the Holy
Women in vigil at the feet of the Master.
All else is chaos. Screams of terror, even cries of pain can be heard in
the far distance. I do not leave Calvary. Rather, our Heavenly Mother
says to me: "Scripture is fulfilled, that the sign be given to testify to
His Kingship. Come, watch and pray, for the Font of Mercy is now opened."
And as I look again upon Jesus I am able to see Him more clearly for the
thick blackness has dissipated somewhat, although the sky still thunders,
and lightning flashes are intense, sending torrents of rain upon the ground
now awash in blood.
One Roman soldier, truly at wit’s end because of the awesome display of
power from Heaven and Earth, motions to the captain. "This one (meaning
Jesus) is dead. Let us dispatch the others quickly and be quit of this
place, for by gods of Olympus, it is a bad omen."
The mounted officer considers. He summons a fellow officer on horseback.
"Report at once to Pilate. Inform him of the situation, and return with
written approval to be done with the remaining criminals. Be quick!"
As one soldier rides off the other now rides closer to the cross. He
surveys the Corpse of Jesus. Nothing stirs except His hair blown by gusts
of wind, yet the officer must be certain. This Man - criminal or not - was no
ordinary human. This officer is in charge and so he must discharge his
duty with care and certainty, lest he himself face Rome’s justice.
He draws his lance and aims it expertly, taking the perfect angle to
strike from horseback. And with power and deftness he drives the weapon
deep into Jesus’ right side. The spear’s point emerges from between the
ribs on the left side having made its way through the Sacred Heart.
The soldier is satisfied. There is no gush of fresh blood, but a stream
of blood and water which the heart had not passed through before its last
beat. This, then, is true mortal death. No trickery here. This "King of
the Jews" has expired, and the Roman is grateful because he, too, has grown
uneasy because of the earthquake, storm, wind, rain and hail at the moment
when the Man expired. He wants to understand, but does not know where to
begin.
It is as he is turning away that our Heavenly Mother, who has caressed her
Son’s feet, sees the lance being pulled from her Son’s side, leaving a
gaping wound on the right and a smaller hole where the lance point exited.
I am given to see that from this gaping wound into which I could place my
hand, rays of light - golden and intense - flood forth and spill upon the Holy
Women and John, who look upon Jesus through their tears and seek to comfort
themselves by comforting His Mother.
This, then, is the font of Divine Mercy. Opened for all whose own hearts
are opened to receive it.