Eucharistic Gaze, Oblative Heart

 Divine Appeal Reflection - 258

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 258:  "Look at Me, and Me the oblation of yourself."

In this striking appeal, our Adorable Jesus beckons the soul into a divine exchange that transcends human comprehension. The invitation to “look at Me” is not a call to mere observance, but to contemplative immersion in the mystery of the Incarnate Word. It is a gaze that penetrates appearances, drawing the soul into the abyss of divine love where Christ, the Eternal High Priest, offers Himself eternally to the Father. This gaze becomes the first act of participation in His self-offering. To look at Christ is to allow oneself to be drawn into His Eucharistic mystery, into that total gift which culminated on the Cross and is perpetuated in every Mass. Such a gaze, steeped in faith and purified by grace, becomes transformative—it does not leave the beholder the same. For in the liturgical and mystical tradition of the Church, to contemplate Christ is already to be configured to Him. As the Catechism teaches, Christ’s sacrifice is not merely an external event but a living mystery in which we are called to share through baptism, Eucharist, and interior surrender (cf. CCC 1368; 2011). This is the beginning of becoming the oblation: to allow the gaze of love to inflame our being with divine purpose.

But Christ does not stop at the gaze. He calls us to the unfathomable: “Me the oblation of yourself.” In these words, our Adorable Jesus identifies Himself as both the model and the end of our self-offering. This is the mystical path of oblative union, where the soul no longer lives for itself but becomes wholly His, not symbolically but substantially. Theologically, this oblative identity is a participation in Christ’s own kenosis—the self-emptying of the Word made flesh (cf. Phil 2:7). It is not a poetic surrender, but a profound ontological reorientation where the soul consents to be “taken, blessed, broken, and given,” like the Bread of Life upon the altar. The act of becoming an oblation is the death of the autonomous self and the birth of the soul-in-Christ. In the language of the saints and mystics, it is the total immolation of the will, the annihilation of all that is not of God, so that only divine love may live and act within. This is not self-denial for its own sake—it is self-offering unto divine communion, where the soul is divinized by grace and becomes a living flame united to the eternal Sacrifice.

As Mater et Magistra (Mother and Teacher), the Church uses the Sacraments, particularly the Most Holy Eucharist, which is a living testament to Christ's self-gift, to nurture and perfect this oblative vocation. The sacrifice of Christ and the sacrifice of the Church are offered to the Father in the unity of the Spirit at the sacred liturgy (cf. CCC 1322–1324; Heb 10:14). In addition to prayers and deeds, every baptised soul, sealed in confirmation and conformed to Christ the Priest through baptism, is called to offer the fullness of their being—affections, sufferings, hopes, and labors—as a spiritual sacrifice (cf. Rom 12:1). This is not a pious accessory to Christian life—it is its apex. Within the Mass, especially at the moment of consecration, the soul that lives the oblation unites itself invisibly to the crucified Lord upon the altar, participating in the eternal liturgy of heaven. It is here that the saints were formed, here that martyrs found their strength, and here that ordinary lives are transfigured into instruments of divine mercy. To “be” the oblation is to cease resisting the Cross and to become its silent companion, carried in love and consumed in glory.

Philosophically, this mystery reveals the essence of the human person not as self-defining, but as self-giving. Freedom, properly understood, is not the power to choose anything, but the power to give oneself totally to the Good. In Christ, the fullness of Being is revealed not in domination but in surrender, not in possession but in offering. Thus, to be the oblation is to live according to the trinitarian rhythm of gift, reception, and return. It is to enter the interior life of God, where the Son eternally offers Himself to the Father in the Spirit. In this light, we see that sanctity is not a personal achievement but a total surrender to divine action. This is the high calling of every soul: not merely to imitate Christ, but to become so united to Him that He lives, prays, suffers, and offers Himself in and through us. The mystery of Christian existence is not merely moral—it is sacrificial, Eucharistic, nuptial. And so, our Adorable Jesus calls: “Look at Me,” not to admire, but to enter. “Be the oblation,” not to act for God, but to be consumed by Him. This is the mystery of love in its purest form: to vanish in Him and to remain forever in the burning center of divine charity.

Prayer

O our Adorable Jesus, gaze upon us with the fire of Your eternal love, and draw us into the mystery of Your divine oblation. Consume our hearts, our wills, our entire being, until nothing remains but You living in us. Make us perpetual offerings in the hands of the Eternal Father. Amen.

Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.