Interruption of the Visions of the Passion by the Appearance of St.
Joseph under the form of a Child.
During the whole time of the visions which we have just narrated
(that is to say, from the 18th of February until the 8th of March),
Sister Emmerich continued to suffer all the mental and bodily tortures
which were once endured by our Lord. Being totally immersed in these
meditations, and, as it were, dead to exterior objects, she wept and
groaned like a person in the hands of an executioner, trembled,
shuddered, and writhed on her couch, while her face resembled that of a
man about to expire under torture, and a bloody sweat often trickled
over her chest and shoulders. She generally perspired so profusely that
her bed and clothes were saturated. Her sufferings from thirst were
likewise fearful, and she might truly be compared to a person perishing
in a desert from the want of water. Generally speaking, her mouth was
so parched in the morning, and her tongue so contracted and dried up,
that she could not speak, but was obliged by signs and inarticulate
sounds to beg for relief. Her constant state of fever was probably
brought on by the great pains she endured, added to which she likewise
often took upon herself the illnesses and temporal calamities merited
by others. It was always necessary for her to rest for a time before
relating the different scenes of the Passion, nor was it always that
she could speak of what she had seen, and she was even often obliged to
discontinue her narrations for the day. She was in this state of
suffering on Saturday the 8th of March, and with the greatest
difficulty and suffering described the scourging of our Lord which she
had seen in the vision of the previous night, and which appeared to be
present to her mind during the greatest part of the following day.
Towards evening, however, a change took place, and there was an
interruption in the course of meditations on the Passion which had
latterly followed one another so regularly. We will describe this
interruption, in order, in the first place, to give our readers a more
full comprehension of the interior life of this most extraordinary
person; and, in the second, to enable them to pause for a time to rest
their minds, as I well know that meditations on the Passion of our Lord
exhaust the weak, even when they remember that it was for their
salvation that he suffered and died.
The life of Sister Emmerich, both as regarded her spiritual and
intellectual existence, invariably harmonised with the spirit of the
Church at different seasons of the year. It harmonised even more
strongly than man's natural life does with season, or with the hours of
the day, and this caused her to be (if we may thus express ourselves) a
realisation of the existence and of the various intentions of the
Church. Her union with its spirit was so complete, that no sooner did a
festival day begin (that is to say, on the eve), than a perfect change
took place within her, both intellectually and spiritually. As soon as
the spiritual sun of these festival days of the Church was set, she
directed all her thoughts towards that which would rise on the
following day, and disposed all her prayers, good works, and sufferings
for the attainment of the special graces attached to the feast about to
commence, like a plant which absorbs the dew, and revels in the warmth
and light of the first rays of the sun. These changes did not, as will
readily be believed, always take place at the exact moment when the
sound of the Angelus announced the commencement of a festival, and
summoned the faithful to prayer; for this bell is often, either through
ignorance or negligence, rung at the wrong time; but they commenced at
the time when the feast really began.
If the Church commemorated a sorrowful mystery, she appeared
depressed, faint, and almost powerless; but the instant the celebration
of a joyful feast commenced, both body and soul revived to a new life,
as if refreshed by the dew of new graces, and she continued in this
calm, quiet, and happy state, quite released from every kind of
suffering, until the evening. These things took place in her soul quite
independently of her will; but as she had had from infancy the most
ardent desire of being obedient to Jesus and to his Church, God had
bestowed upon her those special graces which give a natural facility
for practising obedience. Every faculty of her soul was directed
towards the Church, in the same manner as a plant which, even if put
into a dark cellar, naturally turns its leaves upwards, and appears to
seek the light.
On Saturday, 8th of March 1823, after sunset, Sister Emmerich had,
with the greatest difficulty, portrayed the different events of the
scourging of our Lord, and the writer of these pages thought that her
mind was occupied in the contemplation of the 'crowning with thorns,' when
suddenly her countenance, which was preciously pale and haggard, like
that of a person on the point of death, became bright and serene and
she exclaimed in a coaxing tone, as if speaking to a child, 'O, that dear
little boy! Who is he?--Stay, I will ask him. His name is Joseph. He has
pushed his way through the crowd to come to me. Poor child, he is
laughing: he knows nothing at all of what is going on. How light his
clothing is! I fear he must be cold, the air is so sharp this morning.
Wait, my child; let me put something more over you.' After saying these
words in such a natural tone of voice that it was almost impossible for
those present not to turn round and expect to see the child, she held
up a dress which was near her, as would be done by a kind-hearted
person wishing to clothe a poor frozen child. The friend who was
standing by her bedside had not sufficient time to ask her to explain
the words she had spoken, for a sudden change took place, both in her
whole appearance and manner, when her attendant pronounced the word
obedience,--one of the vows by which she had consecrated herself to our
Lord. She instantly came to herself, and, like an obedient child
awakening from a sound sleep and starting up at the voice of its
mother, she stretched forth her hand, took the rosary and crucifix
which were always at her side, arranged her dress, rubbed her eyes, and
sat up. She was then carried from her bed to a chair, as she could
neither stand nor walk; and it being the time for making her bed, her
friend left the room in order to write out what he had heard during the
day.
On Sunday, the 9th of March, the friend asked her attendant what
Sister Emmerich meant the evening before when she spoke of a child
called Joseph. The attendant answered, 'She spoke of him again many times
yesterday evening; he is the son of a cousin of mine, and a great
favourite of hers. I fear that her talking so much about him is a sign
that he is going to have an illness, for she said so many times that
the poor child was almost without clothing, and that he must be cold.'
The friend remembered having often seen this little Joseph playing
on the bed of Sister Emmerich, and he supposed that she was dreaming
about him on the previous day. When the friend went to see her later in
the day to endeavour to obtain a continuation of the narrations of the
Passion, he found her, contrary to his expectation, more calm, and
apparently better in health than on the previous day. She told him that
she had seen nothing more after the scourging of our Lord; and when he
questioned her concerning what she had said about little Joseph, she
could not remember having spoken of the child at all. He then asked the
reason of her being so calm, serene, and apparently well in health; and
she answered, 'I always feel thus when Mid-Lent comes, for then the
Church sings with Isaias in the introit at Mass: "Rejoice, O, Jerusalem,
and come together all you that love her; rejoice with joy, you that
have been in sorrow, that you may exult and be filled from the breasts
of your consolation." Mid-Lent Sunday is consequently a day of rejoicing;
and you may likewise remember that, in the gospel of this day, the
Church relates how our Lord fed five thousand men with five loaves and
two fishes, of which twelve baskets of fragments remained, consequently
we ought to rejoice.'
She likewise added, that our Lord had deigned to visit her on that
day in the Holy Communion, and that she always felt especial spiritual
consolation when she received him on that particular day of the year.
The friend cast his eyes on the calendar of the diocese of Munster, and
saw that on that day they not only kept Mid-Lent Sunday, but likewise
the Feast of St. Joseph, the foster-father of our Lord; he was not
aware of this before, because in other places the feast of St. Joseph
is kept on the 19th, and he remarked this circumstance to Sister
Emmerich, and asked her whether she did not think that was the cause of
her speaking about Joseph. She answered that she was perfectly aware of
its being the feast of the foster-father of Jesus, but that she had not
been thinking of the child of that name. However, a moment after, she
suddenly remembered what her thoughts had been the day before, and
explained to her friend that the moment the feast of St. Joseph began,
her vision of the sorrowful mysteries of the Passion ceased, and were
superseded by totally different scenes, in which St. Joseph appeared
under the form of a child, and that it was to him that the words we
have mentioned above were addressed.
We found that when she received these communications the vision was
often in the form of a child, especially in those cases when an artist
would have made use of that simile to express his ideas. If, for
instance, the accomplishment of some Scripture prophecy was being shown
to her, she often saw by the side of the illustration a child, who
clearly designated the characteristics of such or such a prophet, by
his position, his dress, and the manner in which he held in his hand
and waved to and fro the prophetic roll appended to a staff.
Sometimes, when she was in extreme suffering, a beautiful child,
dressed in green, with a calm and serene countenance, would approach,
and seat himself in a posture of resignation at the side of her bed,
allowing himself to be moved from one side to the other, or even put
down on to the ground, without the smallest opposition and constantly
looking at her affectionately and consoling her. If, when quite
prostrate from illness and the sufferings of others which she had taken
upon herself, she entered into communication with a saint, either by
participation in the celebration of his feast, or from his relics being
brought to her, she sometimes saw passages of the childhood of
martyrdom. In her greatest sufferings she was usually consoled,
instructed, or reproved (whichever the occasion called for) by
apparitions under the form of children. Sometimes, when totally
overcome by trouble and distress, she would fall asleep, and be carried
back in imagination to the scenes and perils of her childhood. She
sometimes dreamed, as her exclamations and gestures demonstrated, that
she was once more a little country girl of five years old, climbing
over a hedge, caught in the briars, and weeping with fear.
These scenes of her childhood were always events which had really
occurred, and the words which escaped her showed what was passing in
her mind. She would exclaim (as if repeating the words of others): 'Why
do you call out so?' 'I will not hold the hedge back until you are quiet
and ask me gently to do so.' She had obeyed this injunction when she was
a child and caught in the hedge, and she followed the same rule when
grown up and suffering from the most terrible trials. She often spoke
and joked about the thorn hedge, and the patience and prayer which had
then been recommended to her, which admonition she, in after-life, had
frequently neglected, but which had never failed her when she had
recourse to it. This symbolical coincidence of the events of her
childhood with those of her riper years shows that, in the individual
no less than in humanity at large, prophetic types may be found. But,
to the individual as well as to mankind in general, a Divine Type has
been given in the person of our Redeemer, in order that both the one
and the other, by walking in his footsteps and with his assistance, may
surpass human nature and attain to perfect wisdom and grace with God
and man. Thus it is that the will of God is done on earth as in heaven,
and that this kingdom is attained by 'men of good will.'
She then gave a short account of the visions which had, on the
previous night, interrupted her visions of the Passion at the
commencement of the feast of St. Joseph.