7 Supernatural Gifts of Glorified Bodies – Our Lady Reveals How to Earn More of Each
7 Supernatural Gifts of Glorified Bodies – Our Lady Reveals How to Earn More of Each
The steady beep of the studio monitor felt like a ticking clock in the dim rectory study. Father Thomas adjusted his collar, leaning slightly toward the high-definition lens of the camera. Outside, a late May afternoon bled into a gray, rain-slicked evening. On his desk, nestled between a heavy brass crucifix and a steaming mug of black coffee, lay a heavily tabbed, leather-bound volume of The Mystical City of God by Venerable Mary of Agreda.
He waited for the red recording light to go solid. When it did, his expression shifted into that familiar, intensely earnest look that his digital parish had come to rely on—a voice that felt like a private conversation over a kitchen table, yet carried the weight of an ancient pulpit.
“My friends, we are deep in the season of Easter,” Father Thomas began, his voice dropping into a resonant, warm cadence. “It is a time where our entire liturgy barks at us to look at the Resurrection. We look at the resurrected body of our Lord Jesus Christ, and in a special way, we look forward to the Assumption of our Lady, where her glorified body and soul were taken into heaven.”
He leaned in, his eyes narrowing with a sharp, intellectual intensity.
“But let me ask you a question that most modern Christians completely gloss over: What does a resurrected body actually do? Is it just a shiny, floating version of your current self? Does it just sit on a cloud?” He shook his head slowly. “Not even close. The Catholic tradition, preserved in the deep waters of private revelation, tells us that your glorified body and soul will possess exactly seven literal, distinct supernatural powers—three for the soul, and four for the body.”
Thomas tapped his fingers on the worn leather of the book.
“Most people think heaven is a flat line of generic happiness. They don’t realize that the capacity of your resurrected body is a cosmic math equation—one that you are writing right now, by hand, with every single second of your earthly life. Today, we are going to crack open the revelations given to a 17th-century Spanish mystic to show you what those seven powers look like, how our Lady maxed them out to near-infinity, and how a terrifyingly simple rule can increase your own supernatural capacity before you die. Let’s get right into it.”
Thomas opened the volume, his eyes scanning the archaic typescript before looking back up at the lens.
“To understand the resurrection, we have to start where everything begins—in the interior castle of the soul. Venerable Mary of Agreda notes that when our Lady entered heaven, her soul was instantly decorated with three supreme gifts that perfectly fulfilled the three theological virtues we struggle with on earth: Faith, Hope, and Charity.”
He traced his finger along the text, reading with a deliberate, rhythmic gravity.
“The first gift to her soul,” Thomas read, “was the clear and beatific vision, which corresponds to the obscure knowledge of faith in the viators—the travelers on earth. This vision allows the soul to see directly into the uncreated essence of God.”
Thomas closed the book slightly, keeping his finger in the page. “Think about the physics of that for a moment. On earth, faith is dark. It’s a shadow, an intuition, a heavy trust in things unseen. But the moment your soul leaves the anatomy of mortality, that darkness is instantly replaced by a visual penetration into the absolute depths of God. But here is the catch: not all vision is created equally.”
He leaned forward, gesturing with his left hand. “The depth of your vision in heaven is fixed based on your capacity when you die. Imagine an infinite ocean of light. The soul of the lowest person in heaven might see a mile into that light. They will be completely, flawlessly happy—their little cup will be full to the brim. But our Lady stands at the absolute, extreme boundary of human nature. She is the last human soul before the infinite, capable of seeing into the furthest, deepest, most terrifyingly beautiful secrets of the Trinity.”
Thomas’s voice grew more urgent. “Why does this matter to an American audience obsessed with retirement accounts and long-term planning? Because of the eternal freeze. If there is a level one trillion in heaven, and through a lukewarm, comfortable life you only develop the spiritual capacity for level one million, that is where you stop for all eternity. You cannot grow in heaven. The muscle you build here is the muscle you use forever. And that vision is just the beginning. The second gift corresponds to the virtue of Hope, and it’s what the text calls comprehension, possession, or apprehension.”
He returned to the text, his voice mimicking the precise theology of the Spanish nun.
“This consists in the attainment of the end corresponding to the virtue of hope, whereby we seek after the final object in order to possess it without danger of ever losing it… The greater the gift of comprehension, the more you grasp and hold the divinity you see.”
“It is one thing to see an immense treasure,” Thomas explained, his eyes locking back onto the camera. “It is an entirely different thing to hold it in your hands and know it can never be stolen from you. Hope on earth is an anxious virtue—we hope for health, we hope our kids turn out right, we hope we make it across the finish line without losing our souls. But in the resurrection, comprehension locks your soul into a permanent state of absolute possession. You don’t just look at God; you own Him. You hold the territory of the Divine Essence.”
He paused, letting the silence of the rectory settle for a beat before shifting his weight. “And the third gift of the soul? The one that anchors the other two? It is fruition, which is the perfect fulfillment of Charity.”
He smiled, a slight, knowing expression. “Fruition is a strange word to our modern ears. We think of fruit as something passive sitting in a bowl. But in spiritual theology, fruition means the active, ecstatic bearing of fruit through supernatural love. Look at how this works in human relationships. A husband and wife can love each other, but if that love is insular, it stops with them. But a love that is wildly, beautifully healthy bears fruit—it births children. In the spiritual realm, the saints who loved God with the most intense, agonizing charity on earth possess a gift of fruition in heaven that makes them spiritually fertile across time.”
Thomas stood up from his chair, pacing slightly into the wider frame of the camera, his hand cutting through the air. “Who are the greatest saints? The ones whose names are carved into every parish, whose statues are in the gardens of people who don’t even believe in the real presence. Look at St. Francis of Assisi. Why does a non-Catholic in a suburb put a stone statue of a medieval Italian friar near their hydrangeas? Because Francis’s gift of fruition was so massive, his love for God so intensely fertile during his life, that he continues to birth spiritual children eight hundred years after his death. Our Lady’s fruition is near-infinite; she has an insane number of children because her love was completely unreserved. She is the mother of billions because her charity was a furnace.”
Thomas walked back to his desk, leaning over the book with his hands flat on the polished oak. “But this video isn’t just about the ghost in the machine. It’s about the resurrection of the flesh. Catholicism is a deeply material religion—we believe in bones, in skin, in vocal cords. And Venerable Mary of Agreda lays down four distinct, jaw-dropping powers that will inhabit your literal, physical resurrected body. The first is clearness.”
He read from the book, his voice dropping into a rhythmic whisper:
“The gift of clearness disposes the body to receive the light, and at the same time to give it forth, doing away with earthly opakeness and obscurity, and making it more transparent than the clearest crystal.”
Thomas looked up, his eyes wide. “Listen to what she writes next about Mary’s life on earth. This blew my mind when I read it. ‘There is no doubt that if God had not by a special providence withheld and hidden the splendor and reality due to her countenance, the body of this most pure mother would have brightened the world more than a thousand suns combined.’“
He let the phrase hang in the air. A thousand suns combined.
“When the children at Fatima saw our Lady in 1917, they didn’t just say she was bright,” Thomas said, his voice laced with awe. “They said she was más blanca que la nieve—whiter than snow, and brighter than many suns shining through crystal. That wasn’t a special effect. That was her natural resurrected body leaking through the veil of time. Your glorified body will lose its dense, muddy opacity. It will become a living diamond, receiving the uncreated light of God and radiating it outward. And the level of your brightness—how much you shine in the kingdom—is entirely dependent on how much light you let into your soul right now.”
He tapped his knuckles on the desk. “The second physical power is impassibility. This is what we typically think of when we think of immortality, but it goes deeper. Impassibility means that nothing in the created universe can harm, disturb, alter, or decay your physical frame. You become utterly invincible. Powerful beyond any human metric.”
Thomas smiled warmly, leaning back into his chair. “Our Lady possessed a form of this even during her earthly life. The text tells us that under normal circumstances, weather didn’t affect her. She could walk through torrential rain or freezing wind and feel no debilitating pain; she didn’t get sick; her cells didn’t suffer from human corruption. The only time she felt physical agony was when God specifically suspended that protection so she could participate in the redemptive crucifixion of her Son. Otherwise, she was a tank. She was what Adam and Eve were meant to be before the Fall. In the resurrection, your body will never know cancer, never know arthritis, never know the slow, humiliating breakdown of old age. You become an unmovable rock.”
“But it’s the third and fourth physical gifts that read like a modern science-fiction script,” Thomas continued, his energy rising as he turned the page. “The third gift is subtleness. Subtleness is the power that strips away the gross, heavy density of quantitative matter. It allows a physical, material body to completely penetrate other solid bodies and occupy the same physical space at the exact same time.”
He leaned toward the camera lens, his voice falling into a sharp, analytical whisper. “If you read this with a background in modern physics, it’s terrifying. It means the atomic structure of a resurrected body is so perfectly aligned, so completely integrated with the spirit, that walls, iron doors, and physical barriers cease to exist as obstacles. This is why Jesus could walk right through the sealed stones of the tomb on Easter morning without moving them. This is why He could appear in the Upper Room when the doors were locked for fear of the authorities. The more subtle your body is, the more godlike it is.”
Thomas raised his hand, fingers open. “God is infinitely subtle. He is everywhere right now—in the air of this room, in the fiber of this desk—because He has no density to block Him. In heaven, your physical form will mirror that divine attribute. You will be lighter, thinner in its spiritual sense, capable of passing through material and spiritual realms without friction. And that ties directly into the fourth and final power: agility.”
He read the description with a rapid, rhythmic intensity:
“This enables the glorified body to move from place to place instantly, and without the impediments of terrain or gravity, in the manner of pure spirits which move by their own volition… moving in varying degrees of speed.”
“Agility means instant teleportation by the sheer force of your will,” Thomas explained, his voice vibrant. “Think about why this matters. God is an infinite being. Heaven isn’t a small room with gold streets; it is a vast, ever-expanding, limitless spiritual universe because it is contained within the nature of God Himself. If you are slow in heaven, it would take you eons to explore the micro-details of His beauty. But the gift of agility allows the saints to flash across the spiritual cosmos like lightning. The slowest body in heaven will be faster than a jet; the fastest will move at the speed of thought, instantly jumping between different realms of the spirit to see the manifestation of God’s glory.”
Thomas leaned back, counting them off on his fingers, his eyes focused. “Vision. Comprehension. Fruition. Clearness. Impassibility. Subtleness. Agility. These are the seven colors of the resurrection spectrum.”
He paused, the studio falling into a heavy, contemplative quiet. The rain outside lashed harder against the rectory window. Thomas took a slow sip of his coffee, letting the steam rise past his face, before looking back into the lens with an expression of profound gravity.
“Now, here is the pivot point of the entire video,” Thomas said, his voice dropping into a confidential, low register. “How do we increase these powers right now? Because let’s be honest—when you hear about saints bilocating on earth, or passing through walls, or glowing with light during prayer, you realize they were already sharing in these seven gifts ahead of schedule. They were getting an advance on their inheritance. How did they do it? Venerable Mary of Agreda asks our Lady this exact question, and the answer she receives is so simple it should make you tremble.”
He leaned over the book, tracking the lines with absolute precision.
“Each of these gifts are correspondingly augmented… in him who in the state of grace performs the least meritorious work, even if it be no more than removing a straw from the ground or giving up a cup of cold water for the love of God.”
Thomas looked up from the page, his voice catching with emotion. “Did you hear that? Removing a straw from the ground. Giving a cup of water. It doesn’t say you have to build a cathedral. It doesn’t say you have to write a massive theological treatise or get martyred in a foreign land. It says that every single tiny, insignificant, mundane action you perform while you are in a state of grace—if it is done intentionally for the pure love of God—compounds the mathematics of your resurrected body.”
He read on, his voice gaining momentum and volume:
“For each of these most insignificant works, the creature gains an increase of these gifts—an increase of clearness exceeding many times the light of the sun… an increase of impassibility by which man recedes from earthly corruption… an increase of subtility by which he advances beyond resistance… and an increase of agility surpassing all the activity of birds, of winds, and of fire.”
“Think about the economy of grace!” Thomas cried out, his hand slamming gently onto the desk to emphasize the words. “Every time you fold your laundry without complaining, every time you hold your tongue when your coworker irritates you, every time you pick up a piece of trash in your parish parking lot and whisper, ‘Jesus, I do this for You,’ you are literally buying currency for the resurrection. You are adding miles to your agility. You are adding suns to your clearness. You are drilling deeper tunnels into your vision of the Godhead.”
He leaned forward, his face filling the frame, his tone laced with a radical, challenging intensity. “So what is the strategy? It is to stop living an accidental life. The tragedy of the modern Christian is that we do a thousand things a day by accident, out of habit, or with a spirit of grumbling. We wake up, we drag ourselves to work, we make dinner, we clean the kitchen—and we waste all of it. We let those moments fall into the dirt because we don’t attach them to the altar.”
Thomas’s eyes burned with a prophetic fire. “Our Lady’s advice to us through this mystic is simple: Go to confession, stay in a state of grace like your life depends on it, and then do everything intentionally. If you want to push your capacity to a heroic level, then push your everyday life to a heroic level. When you are tired, when your body is screaming at you to quit, when you want to complain about your spouse or your boss—stop. Take a breath. Look up at the crucifix and say, ‘Lord, I offer this specific pain, this specific irritation, for the love of You.’ Push until it hurts, because the reward is a permanent, eternal expansion of your very being.”
The soft, ambient guitar music of the video’s outro began to weave its way through the audio track, a gentle, soaring melody that signaled the end of the broadcast. Thomas adjusted his posture, his expression softening from the intensity of the sermon into a warm, paternal farewell.
“My friends, the world tells you to maximize your comfort right now,” Thomas said, his voice dropping into a gentle, resonant whisper that vibrated with deep sincerity. “It tells you to avoid every minor inconvenience, to complain about every ache, and to live for the temporary pleasure of this passing life. But the Catholic faith looks you in the eye and tells you that your current body is just a seed. And a seed has to be buried, it has to be cracked, and it has to die before it can explode into a tree.”
He reached out toward the camera, his hand open in a gesture of blessing.
“Don’t waste your crosses. Don’t waste your small, boring, daily duties. Imagine the moment you step out of the grave on the last day, and your body lifts off the ground, shining brighter than a thousand galaxies combined, moving with the speed of thought into the very heart of the Trinity. It will be worth every single tear. It will be worth every single straw you picked up for love.”
He smiled, that brilliant, authentic warmth returning to his eyes. “If this deep dive into the seven powers of your resurrected body has shaken you up or given you hope in the midst of your physical sufferings today, please hit that subscribe button. Leave a comment below letting me know which of these seven gifts you’re longing for the most, and if you can, support our mission through ‘Buy Me a Coffee’ so we can keep bringing these traditional, uncompromised truths to the world. Until next time, my friends—stay in grace, stay intentional, and build your glory one small deed at a time. God bless you.”
