THE HOLY FACE OF JESUS
From the Writings of
The Servant of God Luisa Piccarreta
The Little Daughter of the Divine Will
Hours of the Passion
“O my Jesus, I kiss your most holy Face, pale, bruised and bleeding, and I ask your forgiveness for the many scorns, offenses and insults You receive from us, most miserable creatures, with our sins. I promise You that every time I have the temptation of not giving You all the glory, the love and the adoration which is due to You, immediately I will cry out:
“Jesus and Mary, I commend my soul to You.”
The Holy Face of Jesus
Fourth Hour of the Passion
Jesus, my Life, I kiss your most holy Face; I see it bleeding, bruised and swollen. The creatures, O Jesus, come before the Holy Host, and with their indecent postures and evil discourses, instead of giving You honor, seem to send You slaps and spittle. And You, just like in the Passion, receive them in all peace and patience, and You bear everything! O Jesus, I want to place my face close to yours, not only to kiss You and to receive the insults which come to You from your creatures, but to share with You all your pains. With my hands, I intend to caress You, wipe off the spit, and press You tightly to my heart; and of my being, to make many tiny little pieces, placing them before You, like many souls who adore You; and to turn my movements into continuous prostrations, to repair for the dishonors You receive from all creatures.
Sixth Hour of the Passion
Jesus, my Life, I want to impress a more fervent kiss on your face, whose beauty has no equal. Ah, this is the face on which the Angels, like cupids, desire to fix, for the great beauty that enraptures them. Yet, the creatures dirty it with spit, beat it with slaps, and trample it under foot. My Love, what daring! I would like to shout so loudly as to put them to flight! I compassionate You, and in order to repair for these insults, I go to the Most Holy Trinity, to ask for the kiss of the Father and of the Holy Spirit, and the divine caresses of Their creative hands. I also go to the Celestial Mama, that She may give me Her kisses, the caresses of Her maternal hands, and Her profound adorations; and I offer You everything, to repair for the offenses given to your most holy Face.
Eighth Hour of the Passion
My most patient Jesus, it seems that these ropes and chains give something more beautiful to your Divine Person: your forehead becomes more majestic, so much so, as to draw the attention of your enemies themselves; your eyes blaze with more light; your Divine Face assumes a supreme peace and sweetness, such as to enamor your very executioners. With your sweet and penetrating accents, though few, You make them tremble; so much so, that if they dare to offend You, it is because You Yourself allow them to do so.
Tenth Hour of the Passion
You are now at the moment in which Annas questions You about your doctrine and your disciples. And You, O Jesus, in order to defend the glory of the Father, open your most sacred mouth, and with sonorous and dignified voice, answer: “I have spoken in public, and all those here present have heard Me.”
At your dignified accents, all feel trembling, but their perfidy is such that a servant, wanting to honor Annas, comes close to You and with a fierce hand gives You a slap, but so violent as to make You stagger, and to bruise your most holy Face.
Twelfth Hour of the Passion
My most sweet Life, Jesus, while sleeping, clinging to your Heart, I often felt the pricks of the thorns which prick your Most Holy Heart. Wanting to wake up together with You, that You may have at least one who notices all of your pains and feels compassion for You, I cling more tightly to your Heart; and feeling your prickings more vividly, I wake up. But, what do I see? What do I hear? I would like to hide You in my heart to expose myself in your place, and receive upon myself pains so intense, insults and humiliations so incredible. But only your love could bear so many outrages. My most patient Jesus, what could You expect from people so inhuman? I now see that they are making fun of You. They cover your Face with thick spit; the light of your beautiful eyes is covered by the spit; and You, pouring rivers of tears for our salvation, push that spit away from your eyes, and your enemies, with hearts incapable of seeing the light of your eyes, cover them with spit again. Others, becoming more brave in evil, open your most sweet mouth and fill it with disgusting spit, to the point that they themselves feel nausea. And since some of that spit flows away, revealing, in part, the majesty of your Face and your superhuman sweetness, they shudder and feel ashamed of themselves. In order to feel more free, they blindfold You with a miserable rag, to be able to hurl themselves, unrestrained, at your adorable Person. And so they beat You up without pity; they drag You; they trample You under their feet; they repeat blows and slaps to your Face and over your head, scratching You, tearing your hair, and pushing You from one point to another.
Thirteenth Hour of the Passion
I see You with your hands tied behind You to a column, and with your feet bound and gripped. I see your most holy Face bruised, swollen and bleeding from the horrible slaps received. Your most pure eyes are blackened; your pupils are tired and sad from the vigil; your hair is all disarranged; your Most Holy Person is all beaten up, and You cannot even help Yourself and clean Yourself, because You are bound.
And I, O my Jesus, with a sob of crying, clinging to your feet, say: ‘Alas, how You have been reduced, O Jesus!’
And Jesus, looking at me, answers: “Come, oh my child, and be attentive to everything you see Me doing, in order to do it together with Me, that I may continue my Life in you.”
To my amazement, I now see that instead of occupying Yourself with your pains, with an indescribable love, You think about glorifying the Father, to compensate Him for all that we owe; and You call all souls around You, to take all of their evils upon Yourself and give to them all goods. And since the day is dawning, I hear your most sweet voice say: “Holy Father, I give You thanks for all I have suffered and for all that is left for Me to suffer. And just as this dawn calls the day and the day makes the sun rise, so may the dawn of Grace arise in all hearts; and as daylight rises, may I, Divine Sun, rise in all hearts and reign over all. Do you see these souls, O Father? I want to answer You for all of them, for their thoughts, words, works and steps – at the cost of blood and death.”
My Jesus, Love with no boundaries, I unite myself to You, and I too thank You for all that You have made me suffer, and for all that is left for me to suffer. And I pray You to make the dawn of Grace arise within all hearts, so that You, Divine Sun, may rise again in all hearts and reign over them….Enamored Jesus, I adore and kiss your most holy Face, all bruised by the slapping. I ask for forgiveness and I repair for all the times You have called us to offer reparation, and we, uniting to your enemies, have given You slaps and spit. My Jesus, I want to fuse my face in Yours, to restore your natural beauty, giving You full reparation for all the contempt given to your adorable Majesty.
Sixteenth Hour of the Passion
My most pure Jesus, You are now near the pillar. Enraged, the soldiers untie You in order to bind You to it. But this is not enough – they strip You of your garments to make a cruel massacre of your Most Holy Body. My Love, my Life, I feel faint for the sorrow of seeing You naked. You tremble from head to foot, and your most holy Face blushes with virginal modesty. Your confusion, your exhaustion, are such that, unable to keep standing, You are about to fall at the foot of the pillar; but the soldiers sustain You – not to help You, but to bind You; and they do not let You fall.
Seventeenth Hour of the Passion
Your Blood pours down upon your Face, in such a way that one can see nothing but blood. But under those thorns and that Blood, your most holy Face appears, radiant with sweetness, with peace, and with love. And the executioners, wanting to complete the tragedy, blindfold You, place a reed in your hand as scepter, and begin their mockeries. They hail You King of the Jews, they beat You on the crown, they slap You, and say to You: “Guess who hit You!” And You remain silent – You answer by repairing for the ambition of those who aspire to kingdoms, to dignities, to honors, and for those who, finding themselves in positions of authority and behaving incorrectly, cause the ruin of the peoples and of their souls, which had been entrusted to them; and their evil examples push others toward evil and cause the loss of souls.
…My Jesus, You are naked, but still, You clothe Yourself – I see You are clothed with blood, your flesh torn, your bones uncovered, your most holy Face unrecognizable. The thorns stuck in your most holy head reach into your eyes – into your Face, and I see nothing but blood which, pouring down to the ground, forms a bloody torrent behind your feet.
Eighteenth Hour of the Passion
You can hardly walk; but I see that You stop and try to look. My Heart, what is it? What are You looking for? Ah, it is Veronica, who, fearless and courageous, with a cloth dries your Face all covered with blood, and You leave your Face impressed on it, in sign of gratitude. My generous Jesus, I too want to dry You, but not with a cloth; I want to expose all of myself to relieve You, I want to enter into your interior and give You, O Jesus, heartbeat for heartbeat, breath for breath, affection for affection, desire for desire. I intend to dive into your Most Holy Intelligence, and making all these heartbeats, breaths, affections and desires flow in the immensity of your Will, I intend to multiply them to infinity. I want, O my Jesus, to form waves of heartbeats, so that not one evil heartbeat may resound in your Heart, and so soothe all your interior bitternesses. I intend to form waves of affections and desires to cast away all evil affections and desires which might, even slightly, sadden your Heart. Still more, O my Jesus, I intend to form waves of breaths and thoughts, to cast away any breath or thought that could slightly displease You. I will be on guard, O Jesus, so that nothing else may afflict You, adding more bitterness to your interior pains. O my Jesus, please, let all of my interior swim in the immensity of yours; in this way I will be able to find enough love and will, so that no evil love may enter your interior, nor a will which may displease You.
Nineteenth Hour of the Passion
Tell me my Love, who do You want, to sustain You in so much pain? Oh, please, let me come to You – I, who more than anyone else, feel the need to be near You in these moments. Dear Mama and the others give me their place, and here I am, O Jesus, I come to You. I hug You, and I pray You to lean your head upon my shoulder, to let me feel the piercings of your thorns, in order to repair for all the offenses of thought that creatures commit. My Love, please, hold me to Yourself; I want to kiss, one by one, the drops of Blood which flow down your most holy Face, and I pray You that each one of these drops may be light for every mind of creature, so that no one may offend You with evil thoughts.
Twentieth Hour of the Passion
O my Jesus, I adore and I kiss your most holy Face, and I thank You for all that You suffered from the spit, the slaps and the mockeries received, and for all the times You allowed Yourself to be trampled by your enemies. I ask your forgiveness in the name of all, for all the times we have dared to offend You, asking You, for the sake of these slaps and this spit, to let your Divinity be recognized, praised and glorified by all. Even more, O my Jesus, I myself intend to go throughout the whole world, from the east to the west, from the south to the north, to unite all the voices of the creatures and change them into as many acts of praise, of love and of adoration. Also, O my Jesus, I intend to bring You all the hearts of the creatures, so that You may cast light, truth, love and compassion for your Divine Person into all. And as You forgive all, I ask You not to allow anyone to offend You, ever again; if possible, even at the cost of my blood. Finally, I intend to offer You everything You suffered in your most holy Face, to give You all the glory that the creatures would have given You, if no one had dared to offend You.
Twenty-second Hour of the Passion
O my Jesus, I kiss your most holy Face, pale, bruised and bleeding, and I ask your forgiveness for the many scorns, offenses and insults You receive from us, most miserable creatures, with our sins. I promise You that every time I have the temptation of not giving You all the glory, the love and the adoration which is due to You, immediately I will cry out: “Jesus and Mary, I commend my soul to You.”
Twenty-fourth Hour of the Passion
But the Divine Will imposes Itself and gives You motion; and You look at His most holy Face, You kiss it, and exclaim: “Adored Son, how disfigured You are! Ah, if love did not tell Me that You are my Son, my Life, my All, I would no longer recognize You, so unrecognizable You are! Your beauty was transformed into deformity; your cheeks into bruises, and the light, the grace of your Face – which was such that seeing You and remaining beatified was the same thing – has turned into paleness of death, O beloved Son. Son, how You are reduced! What an awful crafting sin has made upon your most holy limbs! Ah, how much would your inseparable Mama want to give You back your original beauty! I want to fuse my face in Yours, and take for Myself your Face, and the slaps, the spit, the scorns, and everything You have suffered in your most holy Face. Ah, Son, if You want Me alive, give Me your pains; otherwise I will die!”
My Sorrowful Mama, crying, I pray You not to allow, for now, that Jesus be taken away from our gaze. Wait for me to first enclose myself in Jesus, in order to take His Life within me. If You, who are the Spotless, the All Holy, the Full of Grace, cannot live without Jesus, much less can I do it, who am weakness, misery, and full of sins. How can I live without Jesus? Sorrowful Mama, do not leave me alone, take me with You; but first place all of myself in Jesus. Empty me of everything, in order to place all of Jesus within me, just as You placed Him within Yourself. Begin with me the maternal office which Jesus has given You on the Cross; let my extreme poverty break through your maternal Heart, and with your own hands, enclose me completely in Jesus. Enclose the thoughts of Jesus in my mind, so that no other thought may enter into me. Enclose the eyes of Jesus within mine, that He may never escape from my gaze; and His hearing in mine, that I may always listen to Him and do His Most Holy Will in everything. Place His Face within mine, so that, by looking at Him so disfigured for love of me, I may love Him, compassionate Him, and repair; His tongue in mine, that I may speak, pray and teach with the tongue of Jesus; His hands in mine, so that each movement I make and each work I perform may have life from the works and actions of Jesus. Place His feet in mine, so that each one of my steps may be a life of salvation, of strength and of zeal for the other creatures.
Who can tell, then, the beauty of His adorable face? His white complexion looks like snow colored with a shade of roses, the most beautiful ones. In His rosy cheeks, one discovers the greatness of His person, with a most majestic look, fully divine, which strikes fear and reverence, and at the same time infuses such confidence that, as for myself, I have never found anyone who would give me the least shadow of confidence that my dear Jesus gives – neither my parents, nor the confessors, nor my sisters. Ah! yes, that Holy Face, while being so majestic, is also so lovable, and that loveliness attracts one so much, that the soul does not have the slightest doubt of being welcomed by Jesus, as ugly and sinful as she may see herself. Beautiful also is His nose, which descends to a very fine point, proportioned to His most sacred face. Gracious is His mouth – small, but extremely beautiful, and His finest lips of a scarlet color; while He speaks, He contains so much graciousness that it is impossible to describe it. Sweet is the voice of my Jesus, it is gentle, it is harmonious; while He speaks, there is such fragrance coming out of His mouth, that it seems that there is nothing like it on earth. It is so penetrating as to penetrate everywhere; one feels it descend from the hearing to the heart, and – oh! how many affections it produces. But who can say everything? Then, it is so pleasant, that I believe that no other pleasures can be found, as many as are the ones which one can find in one single word of Jesus. The voice of my Jesus is immensely powerful, it is operative, and at the very moment He speaks, He already operates that which He says. Ah! yes, beautiful is His mouth, but it displays more its beautiful grace in the act of His speaking, while one can see those teeth so clear and so well arranged, and His breath of love comes out, igniting, darting through, consuming the heart. Beautiful are His hands, soft, white, most delicate, with those fingers so perfectly crafted – and He moves them with such mastery as to be an enchantment.
Oh! how beautiful You are – all beautiful, oh my sweet Jesus! What I have said of your beauty is nothing; rather, it seems to me that I have said a lot of nonsense – but what can I do? Forgive me, it is obedience that wants it so. By myself, I would not have dared to say one word, knowing my insufficiency.
This morning, as my adorable Jesus came, He carried me outside of myself, but to my greatest sorrow I saw Him from behind, and as much as I prayed Him to let me see His most holy face, it was impossible. In my interior I kept saying:
Who knows whether it is because of my oppositions against the obedience to write that He does not deign to show His adorable face.’ And while saying this, I cried. After He let me cry, He turned around and told me:
“I take your oppositions into no account, because your will is so identified with Mine, that you cannot want but what I Myself want. So, though it is repugnant for you, at the same time you feel drawn to do it as by a magnet; therefore, your repugnances serve for nothing else but to render the virtue of obedience more embellished and bright. This is why I ignore them.”
Afterwards, I looked at His most beautiful face, and in my interior I felt an indescribable contentment; and turning to Him, I said: ‘My most sweet Love, if I take so much delight in looking at You, what must it have been for our Queen Mama, when You enclosed Yourself in Her most pure womb? What contentments, how many graces did You not give Her?’ And He: “My daughter, the delights and the graces that I poured into Her were such and so many, that it is enough to tell you that what I am by nature, our Mother became by grace; more so, since She had no sin, and therefore my grace was able to lord freely within Her. There is nothing of my Being which I did not give to Her.”
January 12, 1900 Difference between knowledge of self and humility. Jesus alone can glory in possessing true humility.
Finding myself in my usual state, my adorable Jesus came in a pitiful state. He had His hands bound tightly, His face covered with spit, and many people were slapping Him horribly. And He remained quiet, placid, without making one movement or emitting one lament; not even a batting of eyelashes, in order to show that He Himself wanted to suffer these outrages; and this, not only externally, but also internally. What a moving scene, such as to break the hardest hearts! How many things that Face said, with that spit hanging, dirtied with mud! I felt horrified, I trembled, I saw myself all pride before Jesus.
While He was in that appearance, He said to me: “My daughter, only the little ones let themselves be handled as one wants; not those who are little of human reason, but those who are little yet filled with divine reason. I alone can say that I am humble, because in man, that which is said to be humility should rather be called knowledge of self; and one who does not know himself already walks in falsehood.”
Jesus remained silent for a few minutes, and I stayed there, contemplating Him. While I was doing this, I saw a hand carrying a light, which, searching in my interior, in the most intimate hiding places, wanted to see whether the knowledge of myself and love of humiliations, confusions and opprobriums, were present in me. That light found a void in my interior – and I too saw it – which had to be filled with humiliations and confusions, in the example of blessed Jesus. Oh, how many things that light and that holy Face which was before me, made me understand! I said to myself: ‘A God, humiliated and confused for love of me, and I, a sinner, without these insignia! A God, stable, firm in bearing so many insults, to the point that He does not move, not one bit, to shake that disgusting spit off of Himself. Ah, His interior before God, and His exterior before men are made manifest to me; and yet, if He wanted to free Himself, He could, because it is not the chains that bind Him, but His firm Will, which wants to save mankind at any cost. And I? And I? Where are my humiliations? Where, the firmness, the constancy in doing good for love of my Jesus and for love of my neighbor? Ah, how different we are as victims – myself and Jesus! Ah, we are not similar at all!
While my little brain was wandering in this, my adorable Jesus told me: “Only my Humanity was filled with opprobriums and humiliations, to the point that they overflowed outside. This is why Heaven and earth tremble before my virtues, and the souls who love Me use my Humanity as a staircase in order to ascend and lap up a few little drops of my virtues. Tell me now: before my humility, where is yours? I alone can glory in possessing true humility. My Divinity, united to my Humanity, could operate prodigies at each step, word and work; yet, I voluntarily constrained Myself within the circle of my Humanity, I showed Myself as the poorest, and I reached the point of mingling with sinners themselves. I could have done the Work of Redemption in very little time, and even with one single word; yet, during the course of many years, with many hardships and sufferings, I wanted to make the miseries of man my own; I wanted to exercise Myself in many different actions, so that man might be completely renewed and divinized, even in the lowest works. In fact, once they had been exercised by Me, who was God and Man, they received new splendor, and remained with the mark of divine works. My Divinity, hidden within my Humanity, wanted to lower Itself to such baseness, subjecting Itself to the course of human actions – while with one single act of my Will I could have created infinite worlds – feeling the miseries and the weaknesses of others as if they were Its own, seeing Itself covered with all the sins of men before Divine Justice, having to pay their penalty at the price of unheard-of pains and with the shedding of all Its Blood…. Thus It exercised continuous acts of profound and heroic humility.
Oh daughter, here is the immense difference between my humility and the humility of creatures, even that of all of my Saints, which is only a shadow in the face of mine; because the creature is always a creature and does not know, as I know, how great is the weight of sin. Even though heroic souls, following my example, have offered themselves to suffer the pains of others, their pains are not different from those of the other creatures; they are not new things for them, because they are made of the same clay. Moreover, the mere thought that those pains are the cause of new gains, and that they glorify God, is a great honor for them. Furthermore, the creature is restricted within the circle in which God placed her, and she cannot go out of those limits within which she has been circumscribed by God. Oh, if it were in their power to do or undo things, how many other things they would do – everyone would reach the stars! But my divinized Humanity had no limits, yet It voluntarily constrained Itself within Itself; and this was the braiding of all my works with heroic humility.
This had been the cause of all evils which inundate the earth – lack of humility; and by exercising this virtue, I was to draw all goods from Divine Justice. Ah, yes, no concessions of graces come from my throne, if not by means of humility, nor can any ticket be received by Me, if it does not carry the signature of humility. No prayer is listened to by my ears, and moves my Heart to compassion, if it is not perfumed by the fragrance of humility. If the creature does not arrive at destroying that seed of honor, of esteem – and this can be destroyed by arriving at loving to be despised, humiliated, confused – she will feel a braiding of thorns around her heart; she will feel a void in her heart which will always bother her, and will render her very dissimilar from my Most Holy Humanity. If she does not arrive at loving humiliations, at the most she will be able to know herself a little bit, but will not shine before Me, clothed with the garment of humility, beautiful and worthy of sympathy.”
Who can say how many things I understood about this virtue, and the difference between knowledge of self and humility? I seemed to touch with my own hand the distinction between these two virtues, but I have no words to explain myself.
In order to say something, I will use an image. For example, a poor man says he is poor, and he frankly manifests his poverty, also to people who do not know him and who may believe that he possesses something. One can say that he knows himself and tells the truth; and because of this, he is loved more, he moves others to compassion for his miserable state, and everyone helps him. So it is to know oneself. If then, feeling ashamed of manifesting his poverty, that poor man boasted of being rich, while everyone knows that he does not even have clothes to cover himself and that he is dying of starvation – what happens? Everyone despises him, nobody helps him, and he becomes an object of mockery and ridicule to anyone who knows him; and the miserable one, going from bad to worse, ends up dying. So is pride before God and also before other men. And here is how one who does not know himself already leaves the truth and slumps into the path of falsehood.
Now, here is the difference with humility, though it seems to me that knowledge of self and humility are sisters born of the same womb, and one can never be humble if he does not know himself. For example, there is a rich man who, out of love for humiliations, stripping himself of his noble garments, covers himself with miserable rags. He lives unknown, manifesting to no one who he is; he mingles with the poorest, he lives with the poor as if he were one of them, and makes scorns and confusions his delights. Here is the beautiful sister of the knowledge of self, which is humility.
Ah, yes, humility draws grace; humility breaks the strongest chains, which are sin. Humility surmounts any wall of division between the soul and God, and brings her back to Him. Humility is a little plant, but always green and flowery, not subject to being gnawed by worms; nor will winds, hail or heat be able to do harm to it, or make it wither, even slightly. Though being the littlest plant, humility produces very high branches, which penetrate even into Heaven, braiding around the Heart of Our Lord; and only the branches which come from this plant have free access into that adorable Heart. Humility is the anchor of peace during the storms of the sea waves of this life. Humility is the salt which spices all virtues and preserves the soul from the corruption of sin. Humility is the little grass which sprouts along the way treaded by wayfarers; while being treaded, it disappears, but soon one can see it sprout again, more beautiful than before. Humility is like a gentle graft, which renders the wild plant gentle. Humility is the sunset of guilt. Humility is the newborn of grace. Humility is like the moon, which guides us in the darkness of the night of this life. Humility is like that shrewd merchant who knows well how to trade his riches, and wastes not even one cent of the grace that is given to him. Humility is the key of the door of Heaven, such that no one can enter into It if he does not keep this key in good custody. Finally – otherwise I would never end and I would be too long – humility is the smile of God and of all Heaven, and it is the crying of all hell.
1865 – Luisa Piccarreta was born on April 23, the Sunday after Easter, in Corato, Bari, to Nicola Vito and Rosa Tarantino, who had five daughters: Maria, Rachele, Filomena, Luisa and Angela. A few hours after Luisa’s birth, her father wrapped her in a blanket and took her to the main church for baptism. Her mother had not suffered the pangs of labor: her birth was painless.
1872 – She received Jesus in the Eucharist on the Sunday after Easter, and the sacrament of Confirmation was administered to her on that same day by Archbishop Giuseppe Bianchi Dottula of Trani.
1883 – At the age of eighteen, from the balcony of her house, she saw Jesus, bent beneath the weight of the Cross, who said to her: “O soul! Help me!“. From that moment, solitary soul that she was, she lived in continuous union with the ineffable sufferings of her Divine Bridegroom.
1888 – She became a Daughter of Mary and a Dominican Tertiary with the name of Sr. Maddalena
1885-1947 – A chosen soul, a seraphic bride of Christ, humble and devout, whom God had endowed with extraordinary gifts, an innocent victim, a lightening conductor of Divine Justice, bedridden for sixty-two years without interruption, she was a herald of the Kingdom of the Divine Will.
March 4 – Full of merits, in the eternal light of the Divine Will she ended her days as she had lived them, to triumph with the angels and saints in the eternal splendor of the Divine Will.
March 7 – For four days her mortal remains were exposed for the veneration of an immense throng of the faithful who went to her house to have a last look at Luisa the Saint, so dear to their hearts. The funeral was a realm triumph; Luisa passed like a queen, borne aloft on shoulders among the lines of people. All the clergy, secular and religious, accompanied Luisa’s body. The funeral liturgy took place in the main church with the participation of the entire chapter. In the afternoon, Luisa was buried in the family Chapel of the Calvi family.
Jul 3,1963 – Her mortal remains were definitively laid to rest in Santa Maria Greca.
Nov 20, – Feast of Christ the King: Archbishop Cassati officially opened the
1994 beatification cause of the Servant of God Luisa Piccarreta in the principal church of Corato, in the presence of a huge crowd of people, locals and foreigners.
2005 – Archbishop Giovanni Battista Picchierri, current Archbishop of Trani. It is he who requested that the Cause of Beatification of the Servant of God Luisa Piccarreta be continued.
ARCHDIOCESE Trani – Barletta – Bisceglie – Nazareth 70059 TRANI – VIA BELTRANI, 9 – TEL.0883-583498
Trani, June 4, 2005
The “Divine Will” has guided the Archdiocese, in this last decade, for the completion of the works regarding the process of the Cause of Beatification of the Servant of God Luisa Piccarreta. The Diocesan Postulation announces having completed this journey. It communicates that on the days of the 27th, 28th, and 29th of October 2005 it will celebrate the 2nd International Congress with the conclusion of the diocesan process.
The Pious Association Luisa Piccarreta Little Children of the Divine Will*, in Corato, has been charged with performing the job of Secretary for the celebration and welcome of guests. Later the program of the celebration will be published in a definitive way.
May Jesus Christ present in the Eucharist guide us as He has guided His Servant Luisa.
The Vicar General
(His Grace Savino Giannotti)
* Pious Association Luisa Piccarreta Little Children of the Divine Will
Referent: Sister Assunta Marigliano
70033 Corato (BA) – Via Nazario Sauro, 27 – Tel. +39.080.8982221
www.luisalasanta.com – e-mail : firstname.lastname@example.org
Come Holy Spirit, Come Supreme Will,
down to reign in Your Kingdom on earth
and in our hearts!
Come Holy Spirit, Come Supreme Will,
down to reign in Your Kingdom on earth
and in our hearts!
Come Holy Spirit, Come Supreme Will,
down to reign in Your Kingdom on earth
and in our hearts!