ALL the more because of Covid-19, Easter Sunday should come to shower us with hope. Easter Sunday recalls the resurrection of Jesus Christ from death. It tells us of our certain resurrections sooner or later. In the teachings of the Church: a resurrection without the body immediately after death, and a resurrection with the body, during the Final Judgement.
Figuring out what to meaningfully share for Easter, I decided on the account of mystic Maria Valtorta, in her stupendous work endorsed by other holy mystics after her, based on what God had allowed her to personally witness, from the creation, through the life of Jesus Christ, to the Final Judgement.
In the light of Easter Sunday, I share what Maria Valtorta saw and wrote on the moments of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is as follows.
“Under the Sudarium and the Shroud, the glorious Body is recomposed in eternal beauty, it awakes from the sleep of death, it comes back from the nothing in which it was, it lives after being dead. The hear certainly awakes and gives its first throd, it propels the remaining frozen blood through the veins and at once creaes the full measure of it in the empty arteries, the the immobile lungs, in the dark brain and brings back warmth, health, strength, thought.
“Another moment, and there is a sudden movement under the heavy Shroud. It is so sudden that, from the moment He certainly moves His folded arms to the moment He appears standing, imposing, splendid in His garment of immaterial matter, supernaturally handsome and majestic, with a gravity that changes and elevates HIm, and yet leaves Him examtly Himself, the eye has hardly time to follow the development. And not it admires Him: so differeng from what the mind remembers, tified up, without wounds or blood, only lbasing with the light that gushes from the give wounds and issues from every pore of His skin.
“When He takes His first stop and in the movement the rays emanating from His Hands and Fee halo Him with beams of light: from His Head haloed with a garland, made with the countless little wounds of the cross, but they no longer bleed but only shine, to the hand of His tunic, when, opening His arms, that were folded across His cheat, He uncovers the zone of very bright luminosity that filters through His tunic inflaming it like a sun at the height of His Heart- then it is really the Light that has taken a body. Not the poor light of the Earth, not the poor ligjht of the stars, not the poor light of the sun. But the Light of God, all the heavly brightness that gathers in one Being and grants Him its inconceivable azure as eyes, as golden fire as hair, its angelis whiteness as garment and complexion and all that exists, but cannot be described by human words, the supereminent ardour of the Most Holy Trinity, that outshines with its ardent power every fire in Paradise, absorbing Him in Itself to generate Him again at each moment of the eternal Time, Heart of Heaven that attracts and spreads His blood, the countless drops of His incorporeal blood: the blessed souls, the angels, everything there is the Paradise: the love of God, the love for God, all this is the Light that is, that forms the Risen Christ.
“When He moves, coming towards the exit, and the eye can see beyond His brightness, two most beautiful brilliances, but similar to stars compared witht eh sun, appear to me, one on his side, the other on the other side of the threshold, prostratede in the adoration of their God, Who passes by enveloped in His light, beautifying with His smile, and He goes out, leaving the funereal grotto and going back to wak on the earth, that awakes out of jou and shines in ites dews, in the hues of herbs and roseries, in the countless corollas of apple-trees, that open , by a wonder, to the early sun that kisses them, and to the eternal sun who proceeds under them.
“The guards are there, shocked... the corrupt powers of man do not see God, whereas the pure powers of the universe- the flowers, herbs, birds- admire and venerate the Mighty One, Who passes by in a halo of His own ight and in an aureoloa of sunlight.
“His smile, His sues that rest of flowers, on dead branches, that look up at the clear sky, everything. becomes more beautiful. And more soft and shaded than a silky rosery are the misslions of petals forming a flowery foad on the head of the Conqueror. And brighter are the diamonds of the dew. And of a deeper blue is the sky reflecting His refulgent eyes, and more joyfil is the sun that with gladness paints a little cloud blown by a light wind, that comes to kiss its King with scents stolen from gardens and with caresses of silky petals.
“Jesus raises His Hand and blesses and then, while the birds sing more loudly and the wind carries its scents, He disappears from my sight, leaving me in a joy that cancels even the slightest remembrance of sadness ans sufferings and hesitancy for tomorrow."
BLESS US, LORD, BLESS US in these times of peril.