Blessed and Sent

Divine Appeal Reflection - 9

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 9: “I love you and bless you.” 

The blessing of Our Adorable Jesus is never a mere benediction—it is the thunderous seal of heaven poured into frail humanity, igniting mission in the very moment of consolation. When He lifts His hands, creation itself trembles, for His blessing is both embrace and command, tenderness and commissioning. The Gospel of Luke closes with this blazing image: Christ ascending, blessing His disciples, and in that gesture propelling them outward into the history of salvation (cf. Luke 24:50–53). To receive His blessing is to be caught in the current of divine purpose. Isaiah, touched by the burning coal, was not left to bask in private comfort but immediately pressed into prophetic witness (cf. Isaiah 6:6–8). Likewise, the Christian who hears, “I love you and bless you,” is not left unchanged; that word is a consecration, carrying both intimacy and responsibility. The Catechism teaches that blessing confers God’s own life and summons us into His service (cf. CCC 2627). It is as breath that must be exhaled, as fire that must spread. Whether in family or workplace, parish or public square, His blessing is always a holy imperative: Go forth, bear My presence, and manifest My Kingdom.

The blessing of Christ is never ornamental—it is a living current of grace that sweeps the soul into His own divine mission. To be blessed is to be drawn into the eternal dialogue between the Son and the Father, where every “yes” uttered on earth resounds in heaven. The Scriptures unveil this mystery: Jacob blessed by the Angel at Peniel limped forth with a new identity, forever marked by encounter (cf. Genesis 32:28–31). Mary, overshadowed by blessing at the Annunciation, did not remain in private ecstasy but “went in haste” to bring Christ to Elizabeth (cf. Luke 1:39–45). The apostles, blessed by Christ at the Ascension, went forth to the ends of the earth, carrying within them the fire of Pentecost (cf. Acts 1:8). The Catechism teaches that God’s blessing is both gift and call, bestowing His life and summoning man into communion and mission (cf. CCC 2627). Thus, His blessing is both intimacy and departure—it comforts, yet sends; it consoles, yet commissions. It is a participation in Christ’s own eternal priesthood, where intercession and offering converge (cf. Hebrews 7:25). To live beneath His blessing is to accept the Cross as mission and resurrection as destiny, carrying His Presence into the world.

The blessing of Jesus is a seal that carries with it the paradox of holy weakness. When He stretches His hand to consecrate, He does not promise His friends the triumph of earthly security but draws them into the mystery of the Lamb “standing as though slain” (cf. Rev 5:6). His words, “I send you as lambs among wolves” (cf. Lk 10:3), unmask the strange logic of the Kingdom: divine strength advances through surrender, not domination. To receive His blessing is to be configured to the Cross, where love bleeds yet saves, where silence confounds the powers of the world. Grace descends not upon the self-sufficient but upon those poor enough to rely wholly on the Spirit, echoing Paul’s confession, “when I am weak, then I am strong” (cf. 2 Cor 12:10). This vulnerability becomes mission. The hidden intercessions of the cloister sustain the Church’s battles unseen. The weary parent who offers his exhaustion discovers that fragility itself can be sacrament. The young disciple resisting the flood of falsehood online becomes a quiet prophet of truth. Christ’s blessing does not shield from wounds; it hallows them, turning every scar into testimony and every trial into participation in His redeeming work.

Ultimately, the sending contained in the blessing of Christ is eschatological—it is a horizon that opens beyond time into eternity. When the disciples received His blessing at the moment of Ascension, they were not dismissed into absence but drawn into promise, a flame carried until Pentecost transfigured them into bearers of fire (cf. Acts 2:1–4). Every Christian who receives His blessing becomes a continuation of that same mystery: chosen not to remain, but to go; not to keep, but to pour out. The blessing is never static—it is always motion, always gift moving toward gift. Parents bless their children not merely with words but with sacrifices hidden in daily love. Priests extend blessing through the Eucharist, not ending the liturgy but sending forth a people transfigured. Friends bless one another in fidelity that endures trial, workers bless their toil by uniting it to the eternal work of Christ. In this way, blessing is at once tenderness and commission, intimacy and charge. Each “I love you and bless you” is a breath of the Spirit, consecrating us to be His presence in a world still aching for God. To live blessed is to live sent, luminous with His eternal mission.

Prayer

Our Adorable Jesus, Your blessing is mission. In the liturgy and in the silence of prayer, You whisper, “I love you and bless you.” Send us forth as bearers of Your presence, strengthened by fire and shielded by grace, until every blessing becomes beatitude in the Father’s eternal embrace. Amen

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