Divine Mercy Image Explained - Fr. Mark Goring, CC

A Plague of the skin is coming The new year marks the beginning of sorrows

Divine Mercy Sunday - Be Ready for Graces

THE FEAST OF MERCY (Divine Mercy Sunday)

Among all of the elements of devotion to The Divine Mercy requested by our Lord through Sr. Faustina, the Feast of Mercy holds first place. The Lord's will with regard to its establishment was already made known in His first revelation to the saint. In all, there were 14 revelations concerning the desired feast.

Once after insisting, "Do all you possibly can for this work of mercy," Jesus added: "My Heart rejoices on account of this feast." Sister Faustina concluded: "After these words, I understood that nothing can dispense me from the obligation which the Lord demands of me" (Diary, 998).

Our Lord's explicit desire is that this feast be celebrated on the first Sunday after Easter. He joins the feast to the designated Sunday in eight revelations: Diary, 49, 88, 280, 299, 341, 570, 699, and 742. He also implies a connection between the feast and that Sunday on some other occasions recorded in the saint's Diary (see Diary, 420, 89).

St. Faustina, St. John Paul II - The Spark from Poland

The "First Sunday after Easter" ‑ which is designated in "The Liturgy of the Hours and the Celebration of the Eucharist" as the "Octave Day of Easter" ‑ was officially called the Second Sunday of Easter after the liturgical reform of Vatican II. Now, by the Decree of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, the name of this liturgical day has been changed to: 

"Second Sunday of Easter, 

or of Divine Mercy."

Pope John Paul II made the surprise announcement of this change in his homily at the canonization of Sr. Faustina on April 30, 2000. There, he declared: "It is important then that we accept the whole message that comes to us from the word of God on this Second Sunday of Easter, which from now on throughout the Church, will be called 'Divine Mercy Sunday.' "

By the words "the whole message," the Holy Father was referring to the strict connection between the "Easter Mystery of the Redemption" ‑ the suffering, death, burial, resurrection, and ascension of Christ, followed by the sending of the Holy Spirit ‑ and this Feast of Divine Mercy, the Octave Day of Easter.

In this regard, the Holy Father also said, citing the Responsorial Psalm of the Liturgy, "The Church sings ... , as if receiving from Christ's lips these words of the Psalm" [that is, Give thanks to the Lord for He is good; His steadfast love (=mercy) endures forever, Ps 118:1]. And then, the Holy Father developed the connection further: "[This comes] from the lips of the risen Christ, who bears the great message of Divine Mercy and entrusts its ministry to the Apostles in the Upper Room: 'Peace be with you. As the Father has sent Me, even so I send you. ... Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained' " (Jn 20:21‑23).

By what the Holy Father continued to say, it becomes clear why Jesus insisted that the sacred image of Himself as The Divine Mercy is to be venerated throughout the world in connection with the observance of this Sunday (see Diary, 49, 88, 299, 341, 570, 742). The Holy Father said: "Before speaking these words, Jesus shows His hands and His side. He points, that is, to the wounds of the Passion, especially the wound in His Heart, the source from which flows the great wave of mercy poured out on humanity.

"From that Heart, Sr. Faustina Kowalska, the blessed whom from now on we will call a saint, will see two rays of light shining from that Heart and illuminating the world: 'The two rays,' Jesus Himself explained to her one day, 'represent blood and water' (Diary, 299).

Jesus Pierced with a Lance -- and Blood and Water gushed out

"Blood and water! We immediately think of the testimony given by the Evangelist John, who, when a soldier on Calvary pierced Christ's side with his spear, sees blood and water flowing from it (cf. Jn 19:34). 

Moreover, if the blood recalls the sacrifice of the Cross and the gift of the Eucharist, the water, in Johannine symbolism, represents not only Baptism but also the gift of the Holy Spirit (cf. Jn 3:5; 4:14; 7:37‑39).

"Divine Mercy reaches human beings through the Heart of Christ crucified: 'Tell, My daughter, [all people] that I am Love and Mercy itself [personified]' Jesus will ask of Sr. Faustina (Diary, 1074). 

Christ pours out this mercy on humanity through the sending of the Spirit who, in the Trinity, is the Person‑Love. 

And is not mercy love's 'second name' (cf. Rich in Mercy, n.7), understood in its deepest and most tender aspect, in its ability to take upon itself the burden of any need and, especially, in its most immense capacity for forgiveness?"

From this teaching of the Holy Father on that most solemn occasion of his "presenting the life and witness of Sr. Faustina Kowalska. to the whole Church as a gift of God to our time," it can be deduced that the most opportune time, the most proper one, for the solemn honoring of The Divine Mercy falls immediately after the Paschal Feast of Easter, recalling the attaining of our Redemption.

St. Augustine called the eight days of Easter (which the Church liturgically considers as constituting a single day ‑ the day of the new creation) "days of mercy and pardon." He calls the Sunday of this Paschal Octave (which our Lord insisted with St. Faustina is the Feast of Mercy [Diary, 88]) "the summary of the days of mercy" (Sermon 156, Dom. In Albis). It is no wonder, then, that already during his pilgrimage to Blessed Faustina's tomb on June 7, 1997, Pope John Paul 11 declared: "I give thanks to Divine Providence that I have been enabled to contribute personally to the fulfillment of Christ's will through the institution of the Feast of Divine Mercy."

Novena

In fact, Jesus Himself dictated the intentions for each day of the novena which starts on Good Friday and He desired to be celebrated as a preparation for the solemn observance of this feast.

 Veneration of the Image

Divine Mercy

The image of Jesus, The Divine Mercy, is to have a special place of honor on the Feast of Mercy, a visual reminder of all that Jesus did for us through His Passion, Death, and Resurrection ... and a reminder, too, of what He asks of us in return ‑ to trust Him and be merciful to others:

"I want the image to be solemnly blessed on the first Sunday after Easter, and I want it to be venerated publicly so that every soul may know about it" (341).

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A Special Promise of Mercy

Our Lord's promise to grant complete forgiveness of sins and punishment on the Feast of Mercy is recorded three times in the Diary of Saint Faustina, each time in a slightly different way:

"I want to grant a complete pardon to the souls that will go to Confession and receive Holy Communion on the Feast of My mercy" (1109).

"Whoever approaches the Fountain of Life on this day will be granted complete forgiveness of sins and punishment" (300).

"The soul that will go to Confession and receive Holy Communion will obtain complete forgiveness of sins and punishment" (699).

Extraordinary Graces 

Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist

Our Lord is emphasizing, through this promise, the infi­nite value of Confession and Communion as miracles of mercy. He wants us to realize that since the Eucharist is His own Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, it is the "Fountain of Life" (300). The Eucharist is Jesus, Himself, the Living God, longing to pour Himself as Mercy into our hearts.

Why would Our Lord feel the need to emphasize this? Because so many people do not really understand it. They either see no need to receive Holy Communion, or they receive it simply out of habit. As St. Paul explains in his letter to the Corinthians, they eat the bread or drink the  cup of the Lord unworthily, "without recognizing the body of the Lord" (I Cor 11:27‑29).

In His revelations to Saint Faustina Our Lord makes it very clear what He is offering us in Holy Communion and how much it hurts Him when we treat His presence with indifference:

"My great delight is to unite Myself with souls ... When I come to a human heart in Holy Communion, My hands are full of all kinds of graces which I want to give to the soul. But souls do not even pay any attention to Me; they leave Me to Myself and busy themselves with other things. Oh, how sad I am that souls do not recognize Love! They treat Me as a dead object" (1385) ...

"It pains Me very much when religious souls receive the Sacrament of Love merely out of habit, as if they did not distinguish this food. I find neither faith nor love in their hearts. I go to such souls with great reluctance. It would be better if they did not receive Me" (1288) ...

"How painful it is to Me that souls so seldom unite themselves to Me in Holy Communion. I wait for souls, and they are indifferent toward Me. I want to lavish My graces on them, and they do not want to accept them. They treat me as a dead object, whereas My Heart is full of love and mercy. In order that you may know at least some of My pain imagine the most tender of mothers who has great love for her children, while those children spurn her love. Consider her pain. No one is in a position to console her. This is but a feeble image and likeness of My love" (1447).

So, Our Lord's promise of complete forgiveness 

is both a reminder and a call. 

It is a reminder that He is truly present 

and truly alive in the Eucharist, 

filled with love for us and waiting for us to turn 

to Him with trust. 

And it is a call for us all to be washed clean in His Love through Confession and Holy Communion ‑ no matter how terrible our sins ‑ and begin our lives again. He is offering us a new start.

Prepare Yourself Properly

Confession and Divine Mercy

Going to Confession is not the only way we should prepare ourselves for Divine Mercy Sunday. As Cardinal Francis Macharski, Archbishop of Krakow, Poland explains in a 1985 pastoral letter, we are not simply called to ask for God's mercy with trust. We are also called to be merciful:

"Our own merciful attitude is likewise a preparation. Without deeds of mercy our devotion would not be real. For Christ does not only reveal the mercy of God, but at the same time He places before people the demand that they conduct themselves in life with love and mercy. The Holy Father states that this requirement constitutes the very heart of the Gospel ethos (Rich in Mercy, 3) ‑ it is the commandment of love and the promise: "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy' (Mt 5:7). Let it be a mercy that is forgiving and true, and universal, with good words, deeds, and prayer for others!"

Our Lord's words to Saint Faustina about this requirement to be merciful are very strong and leave no room for misinterpretation:

 

Works or Deeds of Mercy

"Yes, the first Sunday after Easter is the Feast of Mercy, but there must also be acts of mercy ... I demand from you deeds of mercy, which are to arise out of love for Me. You are to show mercy to your neighbors always and everywhere. You must not shrink from this or try to excuse or absolve yourself from it" (742).

Receive Christ Reverently

Thus, to fittingly observe the Feast of Mercy, we should:

1.    Celebrate the Feast on the Sunday after Easter;

2.    Sincerely repent of all our sins;

3.    Place our complete trust in Jesus;

4.    Go to Confession, preferably before that Sunday;

5.    Receive Holy Communion on the day of the Feast;

6.    Venerate* the Image of The Divine Mercy;

7.    Be merciful to others, through our actions, words, and    

        prayers on their behalf.

*To venerate a sacred image or statue simply means to perform some act or make some gesture of deep religious respect toward it because of the person whom it represents ‑ in this case, our Most Merciful Savior.

Taken from http://www.divinemercysunday.com/mercy_sunday.htm

Divine Mercy - St. John Paul II and St. Faustina

Divine Mercy Sunday Indulgence

Plenary Indulgence for 

Divine Mercy Sunday

In a decree dated August 3, 2002, the Apostolic Penitentiary announced that in order “to ensure that the faithful would observe this day (Divine Mercy Sunday) with intense devotion, the Supreme Pontiff himself established that this Sunday be enriched by a plenary indulgence…so that the faithful might receive in great abundance the gift of the consolation of the Holy Spirit.  In this way, they can foster a growing love for God and for their neighbor, and after they have obtained God’s pardon, they in turn might be persuaded to show a prompt pardon to their brothers and sisters.”

The plenary indulgence is granted (under the usual conditions of a sacramental confession, Eucharistic communion and a prayer for the intentions of the Supreme Pontiff) to the faithful who, on Divine Mercy Sunday, in a spirit that is completely detached from the affection for a sin, even a venial sin, recite the Our Father and the Creed, and also adding a devout prayer (e.g. Merciful Jesus, I trust in you!).

Additional provisions are offered for those who are impeded from fulfilling these requirements, but who wish to acquire a plenary indulgence.  The full text of the decree of the Apostolic Penitentiary may be found at: www.mercysunday.com.  While the readings and prayers for Mass on this day remain unchanged (they reflect perfectly on Our Lord’s Divine Mercy) the Holy See offers this reflection:

The Gospel of the Second Sunday of Easter narrates the wonderful things Christ the Lord accomplished on the day of the Resurrection during His first public appearance: “On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’  When He had said this, He showed them His hands and His side.  Then the disciples were glad to see the Lord.  Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you.  As the Father has sent Me, so even I send you,’ and then He breathed on them, and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained’” (Jn 20, 19-23).

In addition, the decree requires that parish priests “should inform the faithful in the most suitable way of the Church’s salutary provision.  They should promptly and generously be willing to hear their confessions.  On Divine Mercy Sunday, after celebrating Mass they should lead the prayers that have been given above and they should also encourage the faithful to perform acts of mercy as often as they can.”

From the Feb. 2003 edition of the BCL (Bishops Committee on the Liturgy) NewsLetter by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

APOSTOLIC PENITENTIARY

General Remarks On Indulgences 

From the Official Vatican website

1. This is how an indulgence is defined in the Code of Canon Law (can. 992) and in the "../../../../archive/catechism/ccc_toc.htm" (n. 1471): "An indulgence is a remission before God of the temporal punishment due to sins whose guilt has already been forgiven, which the faithful Christian who is duly disposed gains under certain prescribed conditions through the action of the Church which, as the minister of redemption, dispenses and applies with authority the treasury of the satisfactions of Christ and the saints".

2. In general, the gaining of indulgences requires certain prescribed conditions (below, nn. 3, 4), and the performance of certain prescribed works (nn. 8, 9, 10 indicate those specific to the Holy Year).

3. To gain indulgences, whether plenary or partial, it is necessary that the faithful be in the state of grace at least at the time the indulgenced work is completed.

4. A plenary indulgence can be gained only once a day. In order to obtain it, the faithful must, in addition to being in the state of grace:

— have the interior disposition of complete detachment from sin, even venial sin;

— have sacramentally confessed their sins;

— receive the Holy Eucharist (it is certainly better to receive it while participating in Holy Mass, but for the indulgence only Holy Communion is required);

— pray for the intentions of the Supreme Pontiff.

5. It is appropriate, but not necessary, that the sacramental Confession and especially Holy Communion and the prayer for the Pope's intentions take place on the same day that the indulgenced work is performed; but it is sufficient that these sacred rites and prayers be carried out within several days (about 20) before or after the indulgenced act. 

Prayer for the Pope's intentions is left to the choice of the faithful, but an "Our Father" and a "Hail Mary" are suggested. 

One sacramental Confession suffices for several plenary indulgences, but a separate Holy Communion and a separate prayer for the Holy Father's intentions are required for each plenary indulgence.

6. For the sake of those legitimately impeded, confessors can commute both the work prescribed and the conditions required (except, obviously, detachment from even venial sin).

7. Indulgences can always be applied either to oneself or to the souls of the deceased, but they cannot be applied to other persons living on earth.

Cardinal William Wakefield Baum

Major Penitentiary

Bishop Luigi De Magistris

Titular Bishop of Nova

Regent

From the Official Vatican website 

http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/tribunals/apost_penit/documents/rc_trib_appen_pro_20000129_indulgence_en.html

Divine Mercy Jesus speaks

(St. Faustina) In the evening , when I was in my cell, I saw the Lord Jesus clothed in a white garment.  One hand [was] raised in the gesture of blessing, the other was touching the garment at the breast.  From beneath the garment, slightly drawn aside at the breast, there were emanating two large rays, one red, the other pale.  

In silence I kept my gaze fixed on the Lord; my soul was struck with awe, but also with great joy.  After a while, Jesus said to me,

"Paint an image according to the pattern you see, with the signature: 

"Jesus, I trust in You." 

I desire that this image be venerated, first in your chapel, and then throughout the world.

I promise that the soul that will venerate this image will not perish. 

I also promise victory over [its] Enemies already here on earth, especially at the hour of death, I Myself will defend it as My own glory…

I desire that there be a 

Feast of Mercy.  

I want this image, which you will paint with a brush, to be solemnly blessed on 

the first Sunday after Easter; 

that Sunday to be the Feast of Mercy……

I desire that priests proclaim this great mercy of Mine towards souls of sinners.  

Let the sinner not be afraid to approach Me.  The flames of mercy are burning Me – clamoring Me to be spent; I want to pour them out upon these souls.

… Distrust on the part of souls is tearing at My insides.  The distrust of a chosen soul causes Me even greater pain; despite My inexhaustible love for them they do not trust Me.  

Even My death is not enough for them.  

Woe to the soul that abuses these [gifts]."

Diary of St. Faustina, 47, 48, 49, 50

My daughter, tell the world about My inconceivable mercy, 

shelter for all souls, and especially for poor sinners.  

On that day the very depths of My tender mercy are open.  

I pour out a whole ocean of graces 

upon those souls who approach the Fount of My Mercy.  

The soul that will go to Confession 

and receive Holy Communion shall obtain 

complete forgiveness of sins and punishment.  

On that day all the divine floodgates through 

which graces flow are opened.  

Let no soul fear to draw near to Me, 

even though its sins be as scarlet.  

My mercy is so great that no mind, 

be it of man or of angel, 

will be able to fathom it throughout all eternity.  

Everything that exists has come forth 

from the very depths of My most tender mercy.  

Every soul in its relation to Me will contemplate 

My love and mercy throughout eternity.  

The Feast of Mercy emerged from 

My very depths of tenderness.  

It is My desire that it be solemnly celebrated 

on the first Sunday after Easter.  

Mankind will not have peace 

until it runs to the Fount of My Mercy.  

Diary of St. Faustina, 699

Divine Mercy Jesus Speaks of His Longing to Save Souls

Jesus, I Trust In You

Jesus spoke to Sister Faustina these words about His Divine Mercy...

My daughter, tell the whole world about 

My inconceivable mercy.

I desire that the Feast of Mercy 

be a refuge and shelter for all souls, 

and especially for poor sinners.  

On that day the very depths of 

My tender Mercy are open.  

I pour out a whole ocean of graces 

upon those souls who approach 

the Fount of My Mercy. 

The soul that will go to Confession 

and receive Holy Communion 

shall obtain complete forgiveness 

of sins and punishment.  

On that day all the divine floodgates 

through which graces flow are opened.  

Let no soul fear to draw near to Me, 

even though its sins be as scarlet.  

My Mercy is so great that no one, 

be it of man or of angel, 

will be able to fathom it throughout all eternity.  

Everything that exists has come forth 

from the very depths of My most tender Mercy.  

Every soul in its relation to Me will contemplate 

My love and Mercy throughout eternity. 

The Feast of Mercy emerged from 

My very depths of tenderness.  

It is My desire that it be solemnly celebrated 

on the first Sunday after Easter.  

Mankind will not have peace 

until it turns to the Fount of My Mercy.

Excerpt from Divine Mercy in My Soul, Diary of Sister 

Maria Faustina Kowalska,  699

Jesus is calling you to His Mercy…

take advantage this Easter Season,

Divine Mercy Sunday is the Sunday

after His Glorious Resurrection!

He is waiting for YOU.

Imagine . . .

All You Sins Will Be Forgiven

You Will Be Made White As Snow

Jesus, I Trust In You!!!

Intercession Prayer to St. Faustina for Graces

Prayer to Obtain Graces 

through the Intercession of Saint Faustina

O Jesus, who filled Saint Faustina 

with profound veneration for 

Your boundless Mercy, deign, 

if it by Your holy will, 

to grant me, through her intercession, 

the grace for which I fervently pray 

(your prayer request)…

My sins render me unworthy 

of Your Mercy, 

but be mindful of Sister Faustina’s 

spirit of sacrifice and self-denial, 

and reward her virtue by granting 

the petition which, with childlike trust, 

I present to You through her intercession.

Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be

Saint Faustina, pray for us

Letter from Hell

I read this letter on the 

America Needs Fatima webpage. (link below)

It's a letter written from the depths of hell to a friend 

who had tried without success to help the soul 

who refused the

Mercies of God in life. 

I pray that you will read it, not skim through it.  

Truly read it,

and remember what it says. 

Pray for those you love, 

your family and friends, 

and ALL sinners.  

That they will be converted 

and not receive this

same fate.

Divine Mercy

Eternal Father, 

I offer you 

the Body and Blood,

Soul and Divinity 

of Our Lord Jesus Christ,

in atonement for our sins

and those of the whole world!

For the sake of His Sorrowful Passion,

have Mercy on us 

and on the whole world!

Introduction to the Letter from Beyond:

Souls in Damnation

This letter recounts the tragic story of the eternal damnation of a young woman named Ani. Both the narrative and the letter transcribed below were found among the papers of a deceased nun, who in the world was known as Claire and worked with the condemned woman. This letter was revealed to Claire in a dream shortly after Ani was killed in a car accident.

The narrative received an Imprimatur from the diocese of Treves, Germany in 1953, authorizing its publication as highly instructive. While an Imprimatur is not an affirmation of authenticity, it guarantees that the text is free from doctrinal error. The letter first appeared in a book of revelations and prophecies. Fr. Bernhardin Krempel, Doctor of Theology, published it separately and lent it more authority with his footnotes showing the letter’s absolute concordance with Catholic Doctrine.

I had a friend. That is, we shared a mutual closeness as friends and neighbors while we worked in the same office.

Later, when Ani got married, I never saw her again. From the moment we met, we had between us more amiability than real friendship. So when she moved to the elegant neighborhood of villas far from my home after her marriage, I didn’t miss her very much.

In mid-September of 1937, while I was vacationing at Lake Garda, my mother wrote to me: “Imagine, Ani N. died. She lost her life in an automobile accident. She was buried yesterday in the cemetery of Woodstock.”

The news shocked me. I knew that Ani had never been truly religious. Was she prepared when God suddenly called her? The next morning I attended Holy Mass, which was said for her, in the chapel of the nun’s boarding house where I stayed. I prayed fervently for her eternal repose and also offered my Holy Communion for that intention.

I felt increasingly ill at ease throughout the day, and that night I slept restlessly. I awoke suddenly, hearing something like the door of my room being shaken. As I turned the light on, the clock on my nightstand showed ten minutes after midnight. I could see nothing. The house was silent. The waves of Lake Garda could be heard breaking monotonously on the wall of the boarding house garden. I did not hear the wind at all.

Still, on waking, I had had the impression of having heard something else besides the door shaking. It was a sound similar to when my former boss ill-naturedly tossed a letter on my desk–swish, thump…

awake

I considered for a moment whether or not I should get up. Ah! It was nothing but a figment of my imagination brought on by the news of her death, I assured myself. Rolling over, I prayed a few Our Fathers for the souls in Purgatory, and again fell asleep.

I then dreamed that I rose at six o’clock to go to the chapel. On opening the door to my room, I stepped on a parcel containing the pages of a letter. 

Picking it up and recognizing Ani’s handwriting, I screamed.

Trembling as I held the pages in my hands, I was, I must confess, so shaken that I could not even utter an Our Father. I was almost suffocating. There was nothing better to do than flee that spot and go into the open air. I hastily arranged my hair, put the letter in my purse, and rushed from the house.

Claire's letter

Outside, I followed a winding path up through the hills, passing olive and laurel trees and the neighboring farms, and going beyond the renowned “Gardesana” highway.

The morning broke radiantly. On other days, I would stop every hundred paces, enchanted by the magnificent view of the lake and Garda Island. The soft blue of the water refreshed me and, like a child admiringly gazing at her grandfather, I would gaze upon ashen-colored Mount Baldo rising 7200 feet above the opposite shore of the lake. That day, however, I did not have eyes for any of that. After walking a quarter of an hour, I mechanically let myself sink to the bank and leaned against two cypress trees where the day before I had taken such pleasure in reading “The Damsel Teresa.” For the first time I regarded the cypress trees as symbols of death, something I had taken no notice of in the south, where these trees are common.

I took up the letter. It lacked a signature, but it was, beyond a doubt, in Ani’s handwriting. There was no mistaking the large S nor the French T that used to irritate Mr. G. at the office.

The style was not hers, at least not her usual style of speaking. She conversed and laughed so amiably, with her blue eyes and her graceful nose. Only when we discussed religious topics did she become sarcastic and fall into a rude tone like that in the letter, whose agitated cadence I now entered.

Here, word for word, is the “Letter from Beyond” of Ani V. as I read it in the dream.

Reading the Letter --

Claire!

Do not pray for me. I am damned. 

Soul in Hell

    

As I tell you this and relate to you certain circumstances and details about my condemnation, do not think that I do so out of friendship. Here we no longer love anyone. I do it as “a part of that power that always desires evil but always produces good.”

     

In truth, I would like to see you here where I will remain forever.1

     

Do not be surprised at my intent. Here we all think the same way. Our will is petrified in evil—in what you call “evil.” Even when we do something “good,” as I do now in opening your eyes about Hell, we don’t do it with good intentions.2

     

Remember that we knew each other for four years in M. You were 23 and had already worked in the office for six months when I arrived. You kept me out of trouble many times, and frequently gave me good advice while I worked as your trainee. But, what is that which is referred to as “good”? At the time I praised your “charity.” Ridiculous! Your help arose from pure vainglory, as I had already suspected.

     

Here we don’t acknowledge good in anyone!

     

You knew me in my youth, but I will fill in certain details.

     

According to my parents’ plans, I should never have existed. In their carelessness, I was conceived in disgrace. When I came into the light, my two sisters were already 14 and 15 years of age.

     

I wish that I had never been born! I wish I could annihilate myself at this moment and escape these torments! There could be no pleasure comparable to being able to end my existence, like a piece of clothing reduced to ashes.3 But I must exist; I must be as I have made myself, with the entire blame of my end upon my own shoulders.

     

When my parents, still unmarried, moved from the countryside to the city, they drifted away from the Church, and they kept company with people who had fallen away from religion. Having met each other at a dance, they were “obliged” to get married six months later. During the wedding ceremony a few drops of holy water fell upon them, just sufficient to draw my mother to Sunday Mass a few times a year. She never taught me to pray correctly. She wore herself out in daily concerns, even when our situation was not difficult.

Catholic Church

It is only with deep repugnance and unspeakable disgust that I write words such as pray, Mass, holy water, and church. I profoundly detest those who go to church, as well as everyone and everything in general.

     

For us, everything is a torment. Everything we come to understand at death, every recollection of life and of what we know, becomes a burning flame.4

     

And all of these memories serve to show us the horrible aspect of the graces we rejected. How this torments us! We do not eat, we do not sleep, nor do we walk with our legs. Being spiritually enchained, we reprobates gaze in terror at our misspent lives, howling and gnashing our teeth, tormented and filled with hatred.

     Are you listening? 

Here we drink hatred as if it were water. 

We all hate one another.5

More than anything else, we hate God. 

I will try to make you understand how this is.

     

Stairway to Heaven

The blessed in Heaven must necessarily love God, for they constantly behold Him in His awe-inspiring beauty. That makes them ineffably happy. We know this, and the knowledge infuriates us.6

On earth, men know God through Creation and Revelation and are able to love Him, but they are not forced to do so.

     

The believer—I say this seething—who contemplates and meditates upon Christ stretched upon the Cross will love Him.

But the soul whom God approaches and surrounds, and rejects as Avenger and Judge, that soul hates God as we hate Him.7 This soul hates Him with all the strength of its perverse will. It hates Him eternally, in virtue of the deliberate resolution to reject God in which it ended its earthly life. This perverse act of the will can never be rescinded, nor would we ever want to do so.

Do you now understand why 

Hell must be eternal?

It is because our obstinacy 

never diminishes and never ends.

Being compelled to do so, I add that God is still merciful towards you. I say “compelled” because even though I write this letter, I cannot lie as I would like to do. I put on the paper much that goes against my will. I also have to choke down the torrent of insults I would like to spew forth.

God showed mercy towards us in that He did not allow us to do all the evil we wanted to do while on earth. Had He permitted us to do so, we would have greatly added to our guilt and chastisement. He allowed us to die prematurely—as is my case—or permitted attenuating circumstances.

     

Even now He is merciful towards us, for He does not oblige us to draw near to Him. He allows us to remain in this distant place of Hell, thus diminishing our torment.8 Every step closer to God would torment me more than every step you might take toward a fire.

You were astonished one day when I told you in passing what my father had told me some days prior to my First Communion: “Take care, little Ani, that you get a beautiful dress; the rest is nothing but a sham.” I was almost ashamed for having shocked you so, but now I laugh about it. The best part of this sham was that Communion was only allowed at twelve years of age. By then, I had already amply sampled the world’s pleasures and had easily left everything religious aside, so I didn’t take Communion seriously.

The new custom of allowing children to receive Holy Communion at seven years of age infuriates us. We strive in every possible way to frustrate this, making people believe that in order to receive Communion there must be comprehension, that it is necessary for children to have committed mortal sins before receiving. The “white God” [that is, the Sacred Host] will then be less prejudicial than if He were received with faith, hope, and love, the fruits of Baptism—I spit upon all this!—which are still alive in a child’s heart. Do you recall that I already had this same point of view on earth?

I return now to my father. He fought a lot with my mother. I rarely told you this because I was ashamed of it. Ah! What is shame? Something ridiculous! We are indifferent to everything. My parents no longer slept in the same room. I slept in my mother’s room, and my father slept in the adjoining room, to which he would retire at any hour of the night. He drank heavily and exhausted all our wealth. My sisters were employed and needed the money they made, so Mother began to work. In the last year of her bitter life, Father often beat her when she refused to give him money.

He was always very kind to me. I told you about this one day and you were scandalized with my capriciousness—but what was there about me that didn’t scandalize you?—such as when I twice returned new pairs of shoes one day because the style of the heel wasn’t modern enough for me.

On the night in which a mortal stroke took my father, something happened that I never told you, because I feared a disagreeable interpretation on your part. Today, however, you ought to know it. The fact is memorable, for it is the first time that my true spirit, like that of a cruel executioner, revealed itself.

In bed I was asleep in my mother’s bedroom. She was sleeping deeply, as her regular breathing indicated. Suddenly, I heard someone utter my name. An unfamiliar voice murmured, “What would happen if your father were to die?”

I no longer loved my father, since he had begun to mistreat my mother. Properly speaking, I no longer loved anyone; I only clung to certain people who were still kind to me. Love without a natural motive scarcely exists except in souls that live in the state of grace, which I did not.

I responded to that mysterious questioner, “Surely he is not dying.”

After a brief interval, I heard the same well-understood question, without troubling myself as to where it came from.

“Whatever! He’s not dying,” was the sullen reply that escaped me.

For the third time I was questioned: “What would happen were your father to die?”

In a flash it passed through my mind how Father often came home somewhat drunk, scolding and fighting with Mother, and how often he embarrassed us in front of our neighbors and acquaintances!

I then cried out stubbornly: “All right, then, it’s what he deserves. Let him die!”

Afterwards, everything became still.

     

lord-byron-on-his-deathbed-c-1826

The following morning, when mother went upstairs to tidy up Father’s room, she found the door locked. Around noon they forced it open. Father was lying half-dressed on his bed—dead, a corpse. He probably caught a cold while looking for a beer in the cellar. He had been sick for a long time.

[Could it be that God had depended upon the will of a child, to whom this man had shown some goodness, to grant him more time and an opportunity to convert?]

You and Marta made me enroll in the association of young ladies. I never told you that I found the instructions of the two directors to be quite conniving. I found the games amusing enough. As you know, I quickly came to hold a preponderant role in them, which flattered me. I also found the outings pleasant, sometimes even allowing myself to be taken to Confession and receive Holy Communion. I really had nothing to confess, for I never took account of my thoughts and sentiments. I was still not ready for worse things.

One day you admonished me: “Ani, you will be lost if you don’t pray more.” In truth I prayed very little, and always reluctantly and with annoyance.

You were undoubtedly right. All those who burn in Hell either did not pray, or did not pray enough. Prayer is the first step toward God. 

It is always decisive, especially prayer to her who is the Mother of God, whose name we are not permitted to say. Devotion to her draws innumerable souls away from the devil, souls whose sins would otherwise have cast them into his hands.

I continue, furious at being obliged to do so…

Praying is the easiest thing on earth, and justly so, for God linked salvation to this simplest of actions.

To those who pray assiduously, God grants, bit by bit, so much light and strength that even a drowning sinner is able to raise himself up definitively through prayer, even though he be immersed in mud up to his chest.

In fact, in my last years of life I no longer prayed, and thus deprived myself of the graces without which no one can be saved.

     

Here we no longer receive any grace at all. Even if we did receive a grace, we would reject it with disdain. All the vacillations of earthly life end in the beyond.

     

In earthly life, man can pass from a state of sin to a state of grace. From grace he can fall into sin. I often fell out of weakness, rarely out of malice. With death, this inconstant “yes” and “no,” this rising and falling, comes to an end. Through death, every individual enters into his final state, fixed and unalterable.

     

As one advances in age, these rises and falls become smaller. True, until one dies one can either convert or turn one’s back upon God. In death, however, one decides mechanically, with the last tremors of his will, in the same way he did throughout his life.

   

A good or bad habit becomes second nature, and this is what moves a person one way or another in his final moments. So it was with me. For years I had lived apart from God. Consequently, when I received that final call of grace, I decided against Him. It was fatal not because I had sinned so many times, but rather because I had so often refused to repent and amend my life.

  

You repeatedly admonished me to hear sermons and to read pious books, but I regularly excused myself, citing a lack of time. Could I have done anything more to increase my inner uncertainty?

     

By the time I reached this critical point, shortly before I left the association of young ladies, it would have been difficult for me to follow any other path. I felt unhappy and insecure. I had erected a huge wall against my conversion, which you must not have perceived. You must have thought my conversion easy when once you said to me: “Ani, make a good confession and everything will be all right.”

     

I suspected that what you said was true, but the world, the flesh, and the devil already had me securely in their clutches, such as I was then. I never believed in the action of the devil, but now I attest that the devil powerfully influences people such as I was then.9  Only many prayers on the part of others and my own prayers, together with sacrifices and sufferings, would have managed to wrench me away from him. And this only slowly.

     

There are very few people who are physically possessed, but many who are possessed interiorly. The devil cannot suppress the free will of those who give themselves over to his influence, yet, as a chastisement for the person’s almost total apostasy, God permits the person to be dominated by “evil.”

     

Although I hate the devil, I like him because he and his helpers, the angels that fell with him at the beginning of time, strive to cause the loss of the people on earth. There are myriad demons. Uncountable numbers of them wander through the world, like a swarm of flies, without their presence even being suspected.

     

It does not fall to us who have been condemned to tempt you; this is left to the fallen spirits.10 Our torments increase every time they bring another soul to Hell, but hatred is capable of anything!11

     

Even though I trod tortuous byways, God sought me out. I prepared the way for grace by means of works of natural charity I often did by the natural inclination of my character. At times, too, God beckoned me to a church. When, despite work at the office during the day, I took care of my sick mother, no small sacrifice for me, I strongly felt these attractions of God.

     

Once, in the hospital chapel where you used to take me during our free time at mid-day, I was so moved that I found myself but one step away from conversion. And I cried.

    

The pleasures of the world, however, flowed over this grace like a torrent.

 The thorns choked out the wheat. 

Rationalizing that religion is sentimentalism, according to the manner it was discussed in the office, I cast this grace to the ground, like so many others.

     

Once you reprimanded me because in church, rather than genuflecting, I made only a hasty nod of my head. You thought it was laziness, not suspecting that I already no longer believed in the presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. I now believe it, though only naturally, in the manner that one believes in a storm, the signs and effects of which one perceives.

     

In the interim, I had arranged a religion for myself. The general opinion in the office, that after death souls would return to this world in other beings and would pass through yet other beings in an endless succession, pleased me. With this, I banished the distressing problem of the hereafter to the point that it no longer troubled me.

     

Why did you not remind me of the parable of the rich man and poor Lazarus, in which the narrator, Christ, immediately after their deaths, sent one to Hell and the other to Paradise? But, what would this reminder have accomplished? Nothing more than your pious advice.

     

Bit by bit I found a god, one privileged enough to be called a god, and distant enough that I didn’t have to deal with him. I was even confused enough to make of myself, at will and without changing my religion, a pantheistic god or even a proud deity.

     

This “god” had neither a heaven to console me nor a hell to frighten me. I left him in peace. This is what my adoration of him consisted of.

     

One easily believes in what one loves. With the passing of years, I became sufficiently convinced of my religion. I lived well with it, without its causing me any inconvenience.

     

Only one thing would have been able to bring me to my senses: a profound and prolonged suffering. But this suffering never came. Do you now understand that “Whom God loves, God chastises”?

     

The association of young ladies organized an outing one July day. Yes, I liked those outings, but not the sweetly pious women who went on them.

Recently, an image far different from that one of Our Lady of Graces had been placed upon the altar of my heart. Beside that of Our Lady there stood the gentlemanly figure of Max N., who worked in the warehouse. A short time prior to this we had conversed several times. On this occasion, he asked me out on the very Sunday of the ladies’ outing. Another woman whom he had been dating was in the hospital.

     

He noticed, of course, that I had my eyes on him, but I had never thought of marrying him. He was well-to-do, but too friendly toward any and every young lady. Up to that time I had wanted a man who belonged to me alone, and I alone to him. Thus, I had always kept a certain distance.

[This is true. There was something noble about Ani, notwithstanding all her religious indifference. It astonishes me that “honest” people are also capable of falling into Hell if they are dishonest enough to flee from encountering God.]

    

Max heaped every kindness upon me on the day of that outing. Our conversation, of course, was certainly not that of your pious women.

     

On the following day in the office, you reprimanded me for not having gone with you. I then told you of my Su Your first question was: “Did you go to Mass?” Crazy! How could I have gone to Mass when we had agreed to leave at six in the morning? Do you still remember that I added excitedly, “The good God is not so mean as your little priests!” Now it falls to me to confess to you that, His infinite goodness notwithstanding, God takes everything much more seriously than any priest.

     

After this first outing with Max, I attended just one more meeting of the young ladies’ association. Certain things attracted me at Christmastime, but I had already dissociated myself from you interiorly.

     

Movies, dances, and outings followed. At times Max and I argued, but I knew how to keep him interested in me.

     

My rival, upon being released from the hospital, was furious, and I found her very disagreeable. Her anger worked in my favor, though, for my discreet calm made a great impression upon Max and, ultimately, led him to choose me over her.

     

I knew just how to denigrate her. I would speak calmly, seeming to be entirely objective, but spewing venom from within. Sentiments and insinuations such as these rapidly lead one to Hell. They are diabolical, in the true sense of the word.

     

Why am I telling you this? To show you how I came to separate myself entirely from God.

     

To be so distant from God, it was not necessary to be entirely familiar with Max. I knew that if I lowered myself to that before the time, he would look down on me, so I restrained myself and refused. In truth, I was ready to do anything I thought useful. Determined to win Max, I would stop at nothing.

     

Little by little we fell in love, for both of us possessed estimable qualities that we could mutually appreciate. I was talented and made of myself an able conversationalist, and so I eventually had Max in my hands, assured that I alone possessed him, at least in those last months before our wedding.

     

This is what constituted my apostasy from God: I made a mere creature into my god. In no other way is this more fully realized than in the relationship between two creatures of the opposite sex; love is stifled in matter. This becomes the allure, the sting, and the venom of the object that is loved.  The "adoration" I rendered Max became an ardent religion.

     

At this stage of my life I would hypocritically run off to church during the office lunch hour, to the good-for-nothing priests, the mumbling of the Rosary, and other foolishness.

     

You strove to encourage this, with some intelligence but apparently without suspecting that, in final analysis, I no longer had anything to do with these things. I sought only to set my conscience at ease—I still needed that—in order to justify my apostasy.

In the depth of my soul I lived in revolt against God. You did not perceive that. You always thought I was still Catholic. I wanted to be seen as such, even going so far as giving a donation to the church, thinking that a little bit of “insurance” couldn’t hurt.

     

As certain as you were about your answers, they always went in one ear and out the other. I was sure that you could not be right. Taking into consideration our strained relationship, when my marriage put some distance between us, the pain of our separation was slight.

I went to Confession and Holy Communion one more time before my wedding, but it was a mere formality. My husband felt the same way. But why not? We fulfilled those formalities just like any others.

You would call that “unworthy.” But after that unworthy Communion I had greater peace of mind. It was the last of my life.

     

Our married life was generally harmonious. We had the same opinion on just about everything. That included our shared opinion regarding children: We didn’t want the burden. Deep down, my husband wanted one, naturally, but no more. Ultimately, I was able to banish the idea. I preferred fine clothing and furniture, tea with the ladies, rides in our car, and like amusements.

There passed a year of earthly pleasure from our wedding day until my sudden death.

Every Sunday we went for a drive or visited my husband’s relatives—I was ashamed of mine. My husband’s relatives, like us, swam well on the surface of life.

Inside, however, I never felt truly happy. Something always gnawed at my soul. I hoped that death, certainly far in the future, would end everything.

When still a child, I once heard in a sermon that God rewards the good one does. If He cannot do this in the next life, He will do it on earth. Thus, without my expecting it, I received an inheritance from my Aunt, and my husband had the good fortune of seeing his salary raised considerably. With this, we were able to decorate our new house very well.

My religion was in its last agony, like daylight’s last glimmer in the distant sky. The clubs and cafes of the city and the restaurants where we ate when traveling did not draw us any closer to God. Everyone who frequented them lived as we did, concerned about externals, not essences or things of the soul.

While on vacation we visited a famous cathedral, seeking only to savor the artistic value of the masterpieces it contained. I counteracted the religious air it radiated, chiefly that of the Middle Ages, seizing every opportunity for ridicule. Thus, I criticized a lay brother who served as our guide for being a bit unkempt and awkward; I criticized the trade of the pious monks who made and sold liqueur; I disparaged the eternal pealing of the bells calling people to churches that care only for money. I was thereby able to reject every grace that came knocking at my door.

In particular, I let my ill humor flow profusely over every old depiction of Hell in books, cemeteries, and elsewhere, showing devils roasting souls in red or yellow fire while their long-tailed associates continually bring more victims.

Claire, while Hell might be poorly drawn, it can never be exaggerated.

Above all, I always scoffed at the fire of Hell. Do you recall our conversation on the fire of Hell when I jokingly put a lit match under your nose and asked, “Does it smell like this?”

You quickly blew out the match, but here the fire is never extinguished. Moreover, the fire of which the Bible speaks is not the torment of conscience. Fire means fire. One must understand Our Lord’s declaration in its literal sense: “Depart from Me, ye accursed, into everlasting fire.” 

One might ask how it is that the spirit can be affected by material fire.

How then, on earth, does the soul suffer when one’s finger is held in a fire? The soul itself does not burn, but what pain the whole person endures!

In like manner, here we are imprisoned by the fire in our beings and faculties. Our souls are deprived of their natural movements; we can neither think nor want what we want.12

Do not try to comprehend the mystery that, contrary to the laws of material nature, the fire of Hell burns without consuming.

Our greatest torment consists in knowing with certainty that we will never see God.

Oh, everything which we purposely ignored on earth tortures us here!—When the knife but lies on the table, it gives one only a cold feeling. One can see its keen edge, but not feel it. But the moment it enters one’s flesh, he screams with pain.

     Before, we only saw the loss of God; now we feel it.13

All souls do not suffer equally. The more frivolous, malicious, and determined someone was in sin, the more the loss of God weighs upon him, and the more torture he feels due to the creation he has abused.

Catholics who are damned suffer more than those of other beliefs because, in general, they received more lights and graces without taking advantage of them.

He who knows more suffers more than those who had lesser knowledge.

He who sinned out of malice suffers more than those who fell from weakness.

No one, however, suffers more than he deserves. Would that this were not true, so that I might have some reason to hate!

You once told me that no one falls into Hell without knowing that that is his destination, as was revealed to a saint. Though I laughed at that, I yet entrenched myself behind the thought that there was still time for me to convert—that is how I thought in my heart.

What you said is true. Certainly, before my sudden end, I did not know Hell as it truly is. No human being does. But of this I had no doubt: were I to die, I would enter into eternity in a state of revolt against God, and I would suffer the consequences.

As I already declared, I didn’t turn back but persevered along the same path, impelled by habit, whereby people act with greater deliberation and regularity as they grow older.

    

My death occurred in the following way:

Car Accident A week ago—I speak to you in terms of the way in which you measure time; judging by the pain I have endured, I should already have been burning in Hell for ten years—on a Sunday, my husband and I went for a drive, my last one.

The day broke radiantly. I felt well, as I rarely did, but a sinister feeling came over me.

On our way home my husband and I were unexpectedly blinded by the lights of a car rapidly approaching from the opposite direction. My husband lost control of our car.

“Jesus!” I shouted, not as a prayer, but as a scream. I felt a crushing pain—a trifle in comparison with my present pain. I then lost consciousness.

Strange! On that very morning, the idea that I could, after all, go to Mass again came to me unexpectedly. It sounded to me like a supplication. Clear and determined, my “No!” nipped the thought in the bud. I must finish with this once and for all, and 

I assumed all the consequences.

     And now I endure them.

You know what happened after my death. The fate of my husband, my mother, of my body and burial, all of this you know down to the last details, as do I through a natural intuition we have here. We have only a confused knowledge of what transpires in the world, but we know what closely concerned us.

At the moment of my death I awoke from darkness. I found myself suddenly enveloped by a blinding light. It was at the same place where my body lay. It seemed almost like a theater, where the lights suddenly go out, the curtain noisily opens, and a tragically illuminated scene appears: the scene of my life.

Christ's Judgement

I saw my soul as if in a mirror. I saw the graces I had trampled underfoot from the time I was young until that final “No!” to God. I felt like an assassin brought to trial with my inanimate victim before me.—Repent? Never!14  Was I ashamed of myself? Not at all!

Notwithstanding, it was impossible for me to remain in the presence of the God I had denied and rejected. Only one thing remained for me: the fire.

Thus, as Cain fled from the body of Abel, so did my soul flee far away from this overwhelming sight.

That was my private judgment.

The invisible Judge spoke: “Depart from Me!” and my soul swiftly fell, like a sulfurous shadow, into the place of eternal torment!15

Closing information from Claire:

Thus ended the letter from Ani about Hell. The last words were so twisted as to be almost illegible. When I finished reading the last word, the entire letter turned to ashes. 

What is that I hear? Amidst the harsh tones of the lines I imagined reading there resounded the sweet sound of a bell. I awoke suddenly to find myself still in bed in my room. The morning light of daybreak found its way in. From the parish church came the sound of the bells ringing the Angelus.

Had it all been but a dream?

I had never felt such consolation in the Angelic Salutation as I did after this dream. Pausing, I prayed three Ave Marias. It then became clear, most clear to me: 

One must always cling to Our Lord’s blessed Mother, venerate Mary as her own child, if one does not want to suffer the same fate told you—albeit in a dream—by a soul that will never see God.

Still frightened and shaking due to that night-time revelation, I got up, dressed myself hastily, and rushed to the chapel of the house.

My heart beat violently. The guests kneeling closest to me looked at me with concern. Perhaps they thought that I was so excited and flushed because I had run down the stairway.

That afternoon in the garden I encountered a kindly, nearsighted lady from Budapest, frail as a child, suffering greatly, yet of lofty spirit and fervent in the service of God. She said to me, “Miss, Our Lord does not want to be served in haste.” But she then perceived that something else had upset and preoccupied me. She added kindly: “Let nothing distress you—you know the advice of Saint Teresa—let nothing alarm you. Everything passes. He who possesses God lacks nothing. God alone suffices.”

While she humbly whispered these words to me she seemed to be reading my soul.

“God alone suffices.” Yes, He has to be enough for me, in this life and in the next. I want to possess Him there one day, as numerous as may be the sacrifices I have to make here in order to triumph. I do not want to fall into Hell.

Pray for Sinners!!!!

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Notes:

1. Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Supplement (New York: Benziger Brothers, Inc., 1948), Q. 98, art. 4—”Therefore, they [the damned] will wish all the good were damned.” [back to text]

2. Ibid., art. 1—The determined will“is in them always evil; and this because they are completely turned away from the last end of a right will…. Hence even though they will some good,they do not will it well so that one e able to call their will good on that account.”[back to text]

3. Ibid., art. 3, ad. 3—”Although not to be is very evil in so far as it removes being, it is very good in so far as it removes unhappiness, which is the greatest if evils, and thus it is preferred not to be.”[back to text]

4.Ibid., art. 7—”In the damned there will be actual consideration of the things they knew heretofore as matters of sorrow, but not as a cause of pleasure. For they will consider both the evil they have done, and for which they were damned, and the delightful goods they have lost, and on both counts they will suffertorments.”[back to text]

5. Ibid., art. 4—”Even as in the blessed in heaven there will be most perfect charity, so in the damned there will be the most perfect hate.”[back to text]

6. Ibid., art. 9—”The damned, before the judgment day, will see the blessed in glory, in such a way as to know, not what that glory is like, but only that they are in a state of glory that surpasses all thought.”[back to text]

7. Ibid., art. 8—”The damned do not hate God except because He punishes and forbids what is agreeable to their evil will: and consequently they will think of Him only as punishing and forbidding.”[back to text]

8. Summa, I, Q. 21, art. 4, ad. 1—”Even in the damnation of the reprobate mercy is seen, which, though it does not totally remit, yet somewhat alleviates, in punishing short of what is deserved.”[back to text]

9. “Be sober and watch, because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goes about seeking whom he may devour”(I Peter 5:8).“Put you on the armor of God, that you may be able to stand againstthe deceits of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood; but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places” (Ephes. 6:11-12).[back to text]

10. Summa, Suppl., Q. 98, art. 6, ad. 2— “Men who are damned are not occupied in drawing other to damnation, as the demons are.”[back to text]

11. Ibid., art. 4, ad. 3—”Although an increase in the number of the damned results in an increase of each one’s punishment, so much the more will their hatred and envy increase that they will prefer to be more tormented with many rather than less tormented alone.”[back to text]

12. Summa, Suppl., Q.70, art. 3—”The fire of its nature is able to have an incorporeal spirit united to it as a thing placed is united to a place; that as the instrument of Divine justice it is enabled to detain it enchained as it were, and in this respect this fire is really hurtful to the spirit, and thus the soul seeing the fire as something hurtful to it is tormented by the fire.”[back to text]

13.“The separation from God is a torment as great as God.” Phrase attributed to Saint Augustine.[back to text]

14.Q. 98, art. 2—”The wicked will not repent of their sins directly [that is, out of hatred of sin], because consent in the malice of sin will remain in them; but they will repent indirectly [that is, because of the consequent suffering].[back to text]

15. That the punishment of Hell is eternal is a dogma, certainly the most terrible of all, rooted in Sacred Scripture. “Then he shall say to them also that shall be on his left hand: Depart from me, you cursed, into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matt. 25:41). See also Judith 16:21; Matt. 25:46; II Thess. 1:9; Jude 1:13; Apoc. 14:11 and 20:10; and others. That the word eternal is not to be understood or interpreted as long is clear by such expressions as “unquenchable fire” (Matt. 3:12; Mark 9:43) and “…the fire is not extinguished” (Mark 9:45). If illustration of this dogma were not appropriate, then Our Lord would not have told the parable of poor Lazarus and the rich man. [back to text]

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