Quo Vadis

May 26, 2023

In this video we share Our Lord's Final Judgment from a Vision of Mystic Maria Valtorta.

The following comes from the notebooks of Mystic Maria Valtorta:

“What I am seeing this evening: An immense expanse of land.

As boundless as a sea. I say “land” because there is earth, as on fields and roads. But there is not one tree, stem, or blade of grass. Dust, dust, and more dust.

I see this in a light which is not light.

A barely outlined, leaden brightness of a green-violet hue as is seen at the time of a very heavy thunderstorm or a total eclipse.

A light prompting fear, of burnt-out stars.

That’s it.

The sky is devoid of stars.

There are no stars, no moon, no sun.

The sky is empty, as the earth is empty.

The former is stripped of its flowers of light; the latter, of its plant and animal life.

They are two vast remains of what was.

I have every opportunity to see this desolate vision of the death of the universe, which I think will have the same appearance as at the first moment, when heaven and earth already existed, but the former was devoid of stars, and the latter, deprived of life; a now solidified globe, but still uninhabited, flying through space, waiting for the Creator’s finger to give it grass and animals.

Why do I understand that it is the vision of the death of the universe?

Through one of those “second voices” -I don’t know who they come from, but in me they do what the chorus does in ancient tragedies: the role of indicators of special aspects which the main actors do not clarify on their own.

This is exactly what I want to say to you and what I will say to you later.

As I turn my gaze over this desolate scene, for which I do not grasp the need, I see Death, springing from I don’t know where, standing upright in the middle of the boundless plain.

A laughing skeleton, with her teeth bared and empty eye sockets, the queen of the dead world, wrapped in her shroud as if in a cloak.

She does not have a scythe.

She has already cut down everything.

She is turning her gaze over her harvest and leering.

Her arms are joined over her breast.

She then separates these skeletal arms and opens her hands with nothing more than naked bones and, since it is a giant, omnipresent figure or, rather, omniproximate-sets a finger, the right index finger, up on my forehead.

I feel the chill of the pointed bone, which seems to perforate my brow and penetrate into my head like a needle of ice.

But I understand that this has no meaning other than to seek to call my attention to what is happening.

Indeed, with her left arm she gestures, indicating to me the desolate expanse we-she, the queen, and I, the only living being-are dominating.

At her silent command-given by the skeletal fingers of her left hand and by turning her head rhythmically to the right and the left-the earth splits into thousands and thousands of clefts, and in the depths of these dark furrows scattered white objects appear.

I don’t understand what they are.

As I strive to figure out what they are, Death continues to plough the glebes with her gaze and her command, as if with a ploughshare, and they go on opening increasingly as far as the distant horizon; and she furrows the waves of the seas devoid of sails, and the waters open in liquid eddies.

And then from the furrows of earth and the furrows of sea there arise the scattered, disconnected white objects I saw, which are being recomposed.

They are millions and millions and millions of skeletons surfacing from the oceans, rising straight up from the ground.

Skeletons of all heights.

From the minute ones of infants with little hands like small dusty spiders to those of adult men, and even giant ones, whose mass brings to mind certain antediluvian beings.

And they stand in astonishment, as if trembling, like those who are suddenly awakened from a deep sleep and do not grasp where they are.

The sight of all those skeletal bodies standing whitely in that apocalyptic “nonlight” is tremendous.

And then around those skeletons there slowly condenses a nebulosity like mist rising from the open ground, from the open seas; it takes on shape and opacity and becomes flesh, a body like the one we who are alive have.

The eyes-rather, the eye sockets-are filled with irises; zygomas are covered with cheeks; gums extend over the exposed, jaws, and lips form again, and hair appears once more on the craniums, and arms become shapely, and fingers, nimble; and the whole body becomes alive again, just the way ours is.

Mirrored from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MhC2sRWQFaA