## The Discourse in the Temple and the Retreat to the Royal Gardens
(...) Jesus, who had begun his discourse in a low tone, has been raising his voice, and in these last words it is as powerful as a **trumpet blast**.
Hebrews and Gentiles alike are focused on what he says or simply attentive. And if the former applaud when Jesus remembers the Homeland and openly names the foreigners who have subjected them and made them suffer, the others admire the oratory form of the speech and congratulate themselves on being present at a discourse worthy—as they comment among themselves—of a great orator.
Jesus lowers his voice again as he resumes his speech:
"I have told you this to remind you of the raison d’être of the scribes and Pharisees, and how and why they have sat in the chair of Moses, and how and why they speak and their words are not in vain. Do, therefore, what they say, but do not imitate them in their actions. For they say that one must act in a certain way, but then they do not do what they say must be done. Indeed, they teach the laws of humanity of the Pentateuch, but then they lay heavy, unbearable, inhuman burdens upon others, while regarding themselves, they do not lift a single finger, not only to carry those weights but even to touch them."
"Their rule of life is to be seen, noticed, and applauded for their works (they do them in such a way that they can be seen to be praised for them). And they infringe the law of love, because they like to define themselves as separate and they despise those who do not belong to their sect; they demand the title of masters and a cult on the part of their disciples—things they do not give to God. They believe themselves to be gods in wisdom and power; they wish to be superior to father and mother in the hearts of their disciples, and they claim that their doctrine surpasses that of God, demanding it be practiced to the letter, even though it is a manipulation of the true Law, inferior to it even more than this mount is to the height of Great Hermon, which towers over all Palestine. Some are heretics, believing, like the pagans, in metempsychosis and fate; others deny what the former admit and—if not in result, then in fact—what God Himself has given as faith: that is, that He is the only God to whom worship is due, and that father and mother come only after God, and as such, they have the right to be obeyed more than a non-divine master."
"For if I now say to you: 'He who loves father and mother more than me is not fit for the Kingdom of God,' it is certainly not to instill in you a lack of love toward parents, to whom you owe respect and help, and whom it is not lawful to deprive of aid by saying: 'It is money for the Temple,' or hospitality by saying: 'My office forbids it,' or life by saying: 'I kill you because you love the Master.' I tell you this so that you may have the right love for parents—that is, a patient and strong love within its gentleness; a love that, without falling into the loathing of a father or mother who sins and causes pain by not following you on the path of Life (mine), knows how to choose between my law and family selfishness and abuse. Love your parents; obey them in everything holy. But be ready to die—not to put to death, but to die, I say—if they wish to induce you to betray the vocation God has placed in you to be citizens of the Kingdom of God that I have come to form."
"Do not imitate the scribes and Pharisees, divided among themselves even though they pretend to be united. You, disciples of Christ, be truly united, one for another. Let the leaders be gentle with subordinates; the subordinates with the leaders. Let there be only one thing in the love and the end of your union: to conquer my Kingdom and to be at my right hand in the eternal Judgment. Remember that a kingdom divided ceases to be a kingdom and cannot subsist. Be, then, united among yourselves in the love for Me and my doctrine. Let the hallmark of the Christian—that shall be the name of my disciples—be love and union, equality among you regarding dress, community of goods, and the fraternity of hearts. All for one, one for all. Whoever gives, let him do so with humility; whoever has nothing, let him accept with humility and humbly set forth his needs to his brothers, knowing they are just that: brothers. And let the brothers listen lovingly to the needs of their brothers, feeling themselves truly to be their brothers."
"Remember that your Master often suffered hunger, cold, and a thousand other needs and discomforts and, humbly, He, being the Word of God, exposed them to men. Remember that there is a reward reserved for whoever is merciful, even if only in offering a sip of water. Remember that giving is better than receiving. May the poor find the strength to ask without feeling humiliated by remembering these three things, thinking that I did it before him; and to forgive if they reject him, thinking that many times the Son of Man was denied the place and the food given to the dogs that guard the flock. And let the rich find the generosity to give their wealth, thinking that the vile coin, the hateful money suggested by Satan—the cause of nine-tenths of the world's misfortunes—if given out of love, is transformed into an immortal and heavenly gem."
"Clothe yourselves with your virtues. These must be rich, but known only to God. Do not do as the Pharisees, who wear wider phylacteries and longer fringes, and seek the first places in synagogues and bows in the squares, and want the people to call them 'Rabbi.' Only one is the Master: the Christ. You, who in the future will be the new doctors—I speak to you, my apostles and disciples—remember that only I am your Master. And I will continue to be so when I am no longer here among you. For only Wisdom indoctrinates. Thus, do not let them call you masters, because you yourselves are disciples. And neither demand nor give the name of father to anyone on Earth, because only one is the Father of all: your Father who is in Heaven. Let this truth make you wise in the fact of truly feeling yourselves all brothers among you, whether those who lead or those who are led; and love one another, then, as good brothers. And let none of those who lead wish to be called guide, because only one is your common guide: Christ."
"The greatest among you shall be your servant. It is not humbling oneself to be the servant of the servants of God, but rather it is imitating me, who was meek and humble, and was always ready to have love toward my brothers in the flesh of Adam and to help them with the power that, as God, I have in me. And I have not humiliated the divine by serving men. For the true king is he who knows how to dominate not so much over men as over the passions of man, of which the first is foolish pride. Remember this: whoever humbles himself will be exalted and whoever exalts himself will be humbled."
"The Woman of whom the Lord spoke in the second [chapter] of Genesis, the Virgin of whom Isaiah speaks (7:14), the Mother-Virgin of Emmanuel, prophesied (Luke 1:52) this truth of the new time by singing: 'The Lord has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has exalted the humble.' The Wisdom of God spoke through the lips of Her who was the Mother of Grace and the Throne of Wisdom. And I repeat the inspired words that praised me united to the Father and the Holy Spirit, for our admirable works, when, without detriment to the Virgin, I, the Man, was forming in her womb without ceasing to be God. Let them be the norm for those who wish to give birth to Christ in their hearts and enter the Kingdom of God. The proud, the fornicators, the idolaters who worship themselves and worship their own will shall not have Jesus the Savior, nor Christ the Lord, nor shall they have the Kingdom of Heaven."
"Therefore, woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, who believe you can close with your impracticable sentences—which truly would be, if they were endorsed by God, an unbreakable closure for most men—who believe you can leave standing before the door of the Kingdom of Heaven the men who lift their spirit to it to find strength in their painful earthly journey! Woe to you, who do not enter, do not want to enter because you do not welcome the Law of the heavenly Kingdom, and do not let others enter who are before that door, which you, intransigent ones, reinforce with bolts not placed by God!"
"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, who devour widows' houses under the pretext of making long prayers! For this, you will suffer a severe judgment!"
"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, who travel over sea and land, consuming assets not your own, to win a single proselyte, and once won, you make him twice as much a son of hell as yourselves!"
"Woe to you, blind guides, who say: 'If one swears by the Temple, his oath is nothing, but if he swears by the gold of the Temple, he is bound.' Fools and blind! What is greater, the gold or the Temple that sanctifies the gold? And you say: 'If one swears by the altar, his oath has no value, but if he swears by the offering on the altar, then his oath is valid and he is bound to it.' Blind men! What is greater, the offering or the altar that sanctifies the offering? Thus, he who swears by the altar swears by the altar and everything on it; and he who swears by the Temple swears by the Temple and by Him who dwells in it; and he who swears by Heaven swears by the Throne of God and by Him who is seated upon it."
"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, who pay tithes of mint and rue, of anise and cumin, and then neglect the weightier precepts of the Law: justice, mercy, and faithfulness! These are the virtues one must have, without neglecting the other lesser things!"
"Blind guides, who filter your drinks for fear of contaminating yourselves by drinking a drowned gnat, and then you swallow a camel without feeling impure for it! Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, who wash the outside of the cup and the plate, but inside you are filled with ambition and uncleanness! Blind Pharisee, first wash the inside of your cup and your plate, so that the outside may also be clean."
"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, who fly like bats in the darkness because of your works of sin and make pacts at night with pagans, bandits, and traitors, and then, in the morning, with the traces of your hidden pacts erased, you go up to the Temple elegantly dressed!"
"Woe to you, who teach the laws of charity and justice contained in Leviticus, and then are ambitious, thieves, fallacious, slanderers, oppressors, unjust, vengeful, haters; and who go so far as to strike down whoever bothers you, even if they are of your own blood, and to repudiate the virgin who married you and the children had by her because they suffer some misfortune, and to accuse your wife of adultery because you no longer like her, or to accuse her of an impure disease to be free of her—you, who are impure in your libidinous heart, though you do not seem so in the eyes of the people who do not know your acts! You are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful while inside they are full of dead men's bones and rot. The same happens in you. Yes, the same! Outwardly you appear righteous, but inwardly you are filled with hypocrisy and iniquity."
"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, who build sumptuous tombs for the prophets and embellish the graves of the righteous: you say, 'If we had lived in the days of our fathers, we would not have been accomplices and participants with those who shed the blood of the prophets'! And thus you testify against yourselves that you are descendants of those who killed your prophets. And you, moreover, fill up the measure of your fathers... Oh, serpents, brood of vipers, how will you escape the condemnation of Gehenna?!"
"Therefore, I, the Word of God, say to you: I, God, will send you new prophets and wise men and scribes. And of these, some you will kill, some you will crucify, some you will scourge in your courts, in your synagogues, outside your walls; others you will persecute from city to city, until all the righteous blood shed on Earth falls upon you, from the blood of righteous Abel (Genesis 4:8) to that of Zechariah son of Barachiah (2 Chronicles 24:20-22), whom you killed between the porch and the altar because, out of love for you, he had reminded you of your sin so that you would repent of it and return to the Lord. So it is. You hate those who want your good and lovingly call you to the paths of God."
"Truly I tell you that all this is about to be fulfilled—both the crime and its consequences. Truly I tell you that all this will be fulfilled with this generation."
"Oh, Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Jerusalem who stones those sent to you and kills your prophets! How often I have wanted to gather your children as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you would not! Well, hear this, Jerusalem! Listen, all you who hate me and hate everything that comes from God! Listen, you who love me and will see yourselves caught up in the punishment reserved for the persecutors of God's Envoys! And hear also you who are not of this people, but who are likewise listening to me; listen to know who it is who speaks to you and who predicts without needing to study the flight or song of birds, nor celestial phenomena and the entrails of sacrificed animals, nor the flame and smoke of holocausts, because the entire future is present to Him who speaks to you. Listen: 'Your House will be left to you desolate. I say to you,' says the Lord, 'that you will not see me again until you—you too—say: "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord."'"
Jesus is visibly tired and sweaty from the effort of the long and impetuous discourse and from the swelter of this windless day. Oppressed against the wall by a multitude, the target of the darts of countless pupils, feeling all the hatred that listens to him from the porticoes of the Court of the Gentiles, and all the love—or at least admiration—that surrounds him and does not worry about the sun hitting their backs and their reddened, sweaty faces, he is seen to be truly without strength and in need of rest. And he seeks it by saying to his apostles and to the seventy-two who, like wedges, have slowly made their way through the crowd and are now in the front line (a barrier of faithful love around Him):
"Let us leave the Temple. Let us go to an open place, among the trees. I need shade, silence, and coolness. Truly, this place already seems to burn with the fire of celestial wrath."
They let him pass, not without difficulty. Thus they can exit through the nearest gate, where Jesus makes an effort to dismiss many, but without success: they want to follow him at all costs.
Meanwhile, the disciples observe the mass of the Temple, sparkling under the almost zenithal Sun, and John of Ephesus calls the Master's attention to the robustness of the construction:
"Look what stones, what construction!"
"Well, of it not one stone will be left upon another," Jesus responds.
"No? When? How?" many ask.
But Jesus does not speak. He descends Moriah and leaves the city at a good pace, crossing Ophel and the Ephraim Gate or the Dung Gate, to take refuge in the thicket of the King's Gardens as soon as he can—that is, when those who have persisted in following him (those who are neither apostles nor disciples) slowly depart as Manaen, who has ordered the heavy gates opened, steps forward solemnly to say to everyone:
"Go away. Only those I want enter here."
Shade, silence, the scent of flowers, aromas of camphor and carnations, cinnamon, lavender, and a thousand other fragrant herbs, and the rustle of streams—fed, no doubt, by nearby springs and cisterns—under galleries of foliage, the chirping of birds... make this place a paradisiacal resting spot. The city, with its narrow streets, dark where there are vaults or blinding with sun, with its smells and stenches—sewers not always clean and streets traveled by too many quadrupeds to be tidy (especially those of the second order)—seems to be many miles away.
The keeper of the Gardens must know Jesus very well, because he greets him with respect and intimacy at the same time, and Jesus asks about his children and his wife.
The man would like to receive Jesus in his house, but the Master prefers the cool, restful peace of the vast King's Garden, a true park of delights. And before the two tireless and most faithful servants of Lazarus leave for the food basket, Jesus charges them:
"Tell your mistresses to come. We will be here a few hours with my Mother and the faithful female disciples. It will be very sweet..."
"You are very tired, Master! Your face says so," Manaen observes.
"Yes. So much so that I did not have the strength to continue."
"I had offered you these gardens several times these days: you well know how happy I am to be able to offer you peace and rest!"
"I know, Manaen."
"And yesterday you wanted to go to that sad place, with such arid surroundings, so strangely lacking in vegetation this year, so close to that sad gate!"
"I wanted to give that satisfaction to my apostles. They are children, deep down; big children. Look at them there, how happily they rest!... In a very short time, forgotten of everything that ferments against me behind those walls..."
"And forgotten that you are very afflicted... But I don't think there is much to be alarmed about. The place seemed more dangerous to me other times."
Jesus looks at him and is silent. How many times I see Jesus look and be silent like that in these last days!
Then he begins to look at the apostles and disciples. They have removed the garments covering their heads, have stripped off cloaks and sandals, and now refresh their faces and limbs in the cool streams. Many of the seventy-two—now I think they are actually many more—imitate them. And, all united by the brotherhood of ideals, they lie down to rest here or there, a little distance away to let Jesus rest quietly. Manaen also leaves him in peace and retires. All respect the rest of the Master, utterly exhausted, who has sought refuge under a very thick pergola of blooming jasmine, made in the shape of a hut, isolated by a ring of waters that flow whispering through a small channel in which herbs and flowers bathe: a true refuge of peace accessed by a little bridge two palms wide and four long, whose railing is a whole garland of jasmine corollas.
The servants return, increased in number because Martha wanted to assist all the servants of the Lord, and they report that the women will be there shortly after.
Jesus sends for Peter and tells him:
"Together with my brother James, bless, offer, and distribute as I do."
"Distribute yes, but bless no, Lord. It belongs to you to offer and bless, not to me."
"When, far from me, you were at the head of your companions, did you not do it?"
"Yes. But then... I did it by necessity. Now, as You are with us, You bless. Everything seems better to me when you offer for us and distribute..."—and the faithful Simon embraces his Jesus, who is sitting wearily in that shade, and lowers his head to rest it on his shoulder, happy to be able to embrace and kiss him thus.
Jesus gets up and pleases him. He goes toward the disciples. He offers, blesses, and distributes the food. He looks at them while they eat contentedly, and says to them:
"Afterward sleep, rest while there is time, and so that you may watch and pray when you need to do so, without fatigue and tiredness weighing down your eyes and your spirit with sleep when it is necessary for you to be prepared and wide awake."
"Are you not staying here with us? Are you not eating?"
"Let me rest. Only this I need. Eat, eat!"
He caresses those he meets on his way as he passes, and returns to his place...
Sweet, gentle is the arrival of the Mother at the side of her Son. Mary walks surely, because Manaen, who has been watching at the gate, less tired than the others, points out the place where Jesus is. The others—all the Hebrew disciples, and Valeria as the only representative of the Roman women—stand for a while in silence so as not to wake the disciples sleeping under the cool shade of the leafy trees, who look like sheep lying in the grass at the sixth hour.
Mary enters under the jasmine pergola without making the small wooden bridge creak, nor the pebbles on the ground, and, with even more caution, approaches her Son, who, overcome by fatigue, has fallen asleep (his head resting on the stone table and with his left arm as a pillow under his face covered by his hair). Mary sits, patient, at the side of her tired Creature. And she contemplates him... a long time... A sorrowful and loving smile is drawn on her lips while, quietly, drops of tears fall into her lap. But if her lips are closed and mute, her heart prays with all the strength it possesses, and the power of that prayer and her suffering is perceived in the position of her hands, joined in her lap, squeezed, intertwined so they do not tremble (although, despite this, a slight tremor runs through them). Hands that part only to brush away an insistent fly that wants to land on the Sleeper and might wake him.
It is the Mother watching over the Son. It is the last sleep she will be able to watch over for her Son. And although the Mother's face on this Paschal Wednesday is different from that of the Mother at the Nativity of the Lord, because pain breaks and furrows it, the sweet loving purity of the gaze, the tremulous care, are the same as those she had when, leaning over the manger in Bethlehem, she protected with her love the first, uncomfortable sleep of her Creature.
Jesus moves and Mary quickly wipes her eyes so as not to show tears to her Son. But Jesus has not awakened. He has only changed the position of his head, turning it to the other side, so Mary returns to her stillness and watches.
But something pierces Mary's heart, and it is that she hears her Jesus crying in his sleep and whispering with a confused murmur—he speaks with his mouth pressed against his arm and tunic—the name of Judas...
Mary gets up, approaches, leans toward her Son, follows that confused murmur with her hands pressed against her heart, because what Jesus says, though fragmentary, is not so much so as to be unable to follow it, and allows it to be understood that he dreams again and again of the present and the past, and then also the future... until with a sudden movement, as if to flee from some horrendous thing, he wakes up. But he finds his Mother's breast, his Mother's arms, his Mother's smile, his Mother's sweet voice, her kiss, her caress, the slight brush of her veil over his face to wipe away tears and sweat, while she says to him:
"You were uncomfortable and dreaming... You are sweaty and tired, my Son."
And she puts his messy hair in order, dries his face and kisses him, encircling him with her arm, leaning him against her heart, because she can no longer take him into her lap as when he was very small.
Jesus smiles at her, saying:
"You are always the Mother, the one who consoles, the one who compensates for everything, my Mother!"
He sits her at his side and leaves a faint hand in her lap. Mary takes that long hand, so noble and at the same time so strong, a craftsman's hand, between her small hands, and caresses his fingers and the back, and smoothes the veins that had swollen while hanging during sleep. And she tries to distract his attention to other things...
"We have come. We are all here. Even Valeria. The others are at the Antonia. Claudia called them; she is 'very sad,' according to the freedwoman; she says that—I don't know for what reason—she feels omens of much weeping. Superstitions!... Only God knows things..."
"Where are the disciples?"
"There, at the entrance to the Gardens. Martha wanted to prepare food and refreshments and comforting drinks for you, thinking of how much you tire yourself. She has done so. But I, look: you always like this, and I have brought it to you. It is my part. It is better, because it is from Mama." She shows him honey and a small bread cake. She spreads the honey on the cake and gives it to her Son, saying:
"Like in Nazareth, when you rested during the hottest hour and then woke up sweaty and I came from the cool cave with this comforting honey..."
She cuts herself off because her voice trembles.
Her Son looks at her and says:
"And when Joseph was there, you brought food for two, and cool water from the porous jar you had kept in the stream so it would be cooler, and it was made even cooler by the stalks of wild mint you threw inside. So much mint, there, under the olive trees! And so many bees in the mint flowers! Our honey always had a bit of the taste of 그 perfume..."
He thinks... remembers...
"We have seen Alphaeus, you know? Joseph was delayed because he had one of the children a little sick. But tomorrow he will surely be here with Simon. Salome, Simon’s wife, is guarding our house and Mary’s."
"Mama, when you are left alone, with whom will you be?"
"With whom You say, my Son. I obeyed you before having you, Son. I will continue to do so after you leave me."
Her voice trembles, but the smile is heroic on her lips.
"You know how to obey. What a rest to be with you! Because, you see, Mama? The world cannot understand, but I find complete rest with the obedient... Yes, God rests with the obedient. God would not have seen Himself suffering, nor being troubled, if disobedience had not come into the world. Everything happens because one did not obey. Therefore the pain of the world... Therefore our pain."
"But also our peace, Jesus. Because we know that our obedience consoles the Eternal. Oh, for me in particular, what a thing is this thought! I, a creature, can console my Creator!"
"Oh, Joy of God! You do not know, oh our Joy, what these words of yours are for Us! They surpass the harmonies of the celestial choirs... Blessed! Blessed you who teach me the ultimate obedience, and, with this thought, make it so pleasant for me to fulfill!"
"You do not need me to teach you, my Jesus. I have learned everything from you."
"Jesus of Mary of Nazareth, the Man, learned everything from you."
"It was your light that came out of me, the Light that You are and that was going to the Eternal Light annihilated under the figure of a man... Joanna’s brothers have reported to me the words you spoke. They were enraptured with admiration. You showed yourself forceful with the Pharisees..."
"It is the hour of the supreme truths, Mama. For them they are no more than dead truths, but for the others they will be living truths. And with love and rigor I have to attempt the final battle to tear them from the hands of Evil."
"It is true. They told me that Gamaliel, who was with others in one of the rooms of the porticoes, said at the end, when many were restless: 'When one does not want to be censured, he acts as a righteous man,' and after this observation he left."
"I am glad the rabbi heard me. Who told you?"
"Lazarus. And Eleazar, who was in the room with the others, told him. Lazarus came at the sixth hour, said hello, and left again without listening to his sisters, who wanted him to stay at home until sunset. He asked that you send John, or others, to pick the fruit and the flowers, which are now at their point."
"I will send John tomorrow."
"Lazarus comes every day. But Mary becomes uneasy, because she says he looks like an apparition; he goes up to the Temple, returns, gives a series of instructions, and leaves again."
"Lazarus also knows how to obey. I told him to do it that way, because they are also lying in wait for him. But do not tell his sisters. Nothing will happen to him. Now let us go to the female disciples."
"Don't move. I'm going to call them. All the disciples are sleeping..."
"We will let them sleep. At night they sleep little, because I instruct them in the peace of Gethsemane."
Mary goes out and returns with the women, who, by how light their steps are, one would say they have left their weights behind. They greet him with a deep expression of respect, familiar only in Mary of Clopas.
Martha, from a large bag, extracts a dripping little jar, while Mary takes from a container, also porous, pieces of fresh fruit come from Bethany, and puts them on the table, next to what her sister has prepared—that is, a flame-roasted pigeon, crispy, appetizing—and begs Jesus to eat, saying:
"Eat. This meat gives strength. I have prepared it myself."
Joanna has brought rose vinegar, and explains:
"It refreshes a lot in these first heats. My husband also drinks it when he gets tired during long rides."
"We have nothing," Mary Salome, Mary of Clopas, Susanna, and Eliza offer their excuses. And, in turn, Nike and Valeria: "Nor we. We did not know we were to come."
"You have given me all your heart. It is enough for me. And you will give me even more..."
Jesus eats. But, above all, he drinks the fresh honeyed water that Martha pours for him from the porous jar, and the fresh fruit, which are relief for the Weary One.
The disciples do not speak much. They look at him while he eats. In their eyes there is love and anguish. And, suddenly, Eliza bursts into tears, and justifies herself saying:
"I don't know. My heart is heavy with sadness..."
"We all have it. Even Claudia in her palace..." says Valeria.
"I wish it were already Pentecost," whispers Salome.
"I, however, would like to stop time at this hour," says Mary Magdalene.
"You would be selfish, Mary," Jesus answers her.
"Why, Rabbuni?"
"Because you would want for yourself alone the joy of your redemption. There are thousands and millions of beings who wait for this hour; or who by this hour will be redeemed."
"It is true. I wasn't thinking of that..." She bows her head, biting her lips so the tears in her eyes and the trembling of her lips are not seen. But she remains the strong fighter, and says:
"If you come tomorrow, you can put on the tunic you ordered from me. It is a cool and clean tunic, worthy of the Paschal supper."
"I will come... Do you have nothing to say to me? You are mute and afflicted. Am I no longer Jesus?..." He smiles with an inviting gesture to the women.
"Of course it is You! But so great in these days, that I no longer know how to see you as the infant I carried in my arms!" exclaims Mary of Alphaeus.
"And I as the simple rabbi who came into my kitchen looking for John and James," says Salome.
"I have always known you thus: King of my soul!" proclaims Mary Magdalene.
And Joanna, meek and sweet:
"I too: divine, since 그 dream in which, when I was dying, you appeared to me to call me to Life."
"You have given us everything, Lord. Everything!" sighs Eliza, who has already calmed down.
"And you have given me everything."
"Too little!" they all say.
"Giving does not end after this moment. It will end only when you are with me in my Kingdom. My faithful disciples. You will not sit at my side on the twelve thrones to judge the twelve tribes of Israel, but you will sing the hosanna together with the angels, making a choir of honor to my Mother, and then, as now, the heart of Christ will find its joy contemplating you."
"I am young! It is a long time until I go up to your Kingdom. Happy Analia!" says Susanna.
"I am old, and I am glad to be so. I hope death comes soon," says Eliza.
"I have children... I would like to serve these servants of God!" sighs Mary of Clopas.
"Do not forget us!" says the Magdalene, with contained longing, I would say: with a soul's cry (and it is that her voice, kept low so as not to wake those who sleep, vibrates with more strength than a shout).
"I will not forget you. I will come. You, Joanna, know that I can come even if I am very far away... The others must believe it. And I will leave you something... a mystery that will have me in you and you in me, until we are..."