Pleasures That Devour the Entrusted Souls

Divine Appeal Reflection - 276

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 276:"I implore My Apostle of the last days to make “Small Hosts” for atonement. I want him to speak out to these souls I entrusted souls, I guide him, give him grace and words to tell them. I bless him and as he will always speak, I am beside him. He has to tell them that I know they abandon their vocation and drag down other souls entrusted souls; religious and lay people who offer themselves for their pleasures!"

There is a splendor reserved for those to whom Christ gives His mysteries: priests and consecrated souls, called to stand as sacramental bridges between heaven and earth (cf. CCC 1548–1551). Their life is meant to be a luminous liturgy: prayer shaped by the Eucharist, pastoral speech seasoned with mercy, hands that bless rather than grasp. Yet within that splendor lies a peril—pleasures that begin as small comforts and, by slow degrees, become rival altars. Our Adorable Jesus, whose Heart burns for His Bride, sees how simple gratifications—an appetite for ease, a taste for approval, the secret consolation of undisciplined intimacy—can dull the senses to sacrament and drain a flock of its life. Scripture names the pattern: Eli’s household made sacrifice a commodity (1 Sam 2), David’s lapse into pleasure brought national wound (2 Sam 11–12), and the prophets denounce shepherds who feed themselves rather than the sheep (Ez 34). The Catechism warns that scandal by those in authority multiplies sin and wounds the smallest (cf. CCC 2284–2287). When entrusted shepherds chase pleasure—physical, intellectual, social, or financial—the lamp of their soul is dimmed; those they were meant to feed search in darkness. In such times, hidden fidelity—small hosts of reparation—becomes the sacramental salve that keeps God’s flock from perishing.

Pleasures wear many faces. There are the obvious sensual temptations: illicit attachments that betray chastity and fracture trust. There are subtler consolations: the hunger for applause, academic prestige, invitations, and influence that reshape ministry into performance. There is the soft luxury of comfort—an addiction to ease that erodes prayer, presence, and penance. There is the modern seduction of constant distraction: screens that monopolize attention once reserved for adoration and the confessional. Scripture and tradition call for ascetic vigilance (cf. 1 Cor 9:24–27; Rom 12:1): flesh and self must be held in service, not worshiped. Saints show the remedy concretely. St. John Vianney’s severe discipline and hours in the confessional rebuilt a parish ruined by clerical laxity; St. Benedict’s rule teaches how ordered poverty and work protect community from self-indulgence; St. Thérèse’s “little way” offers tiny renunciations united to the Mass, transforming the smallest refusal of pleasure into missionary power. Where pleasures become masters, these paradigms of holiness show how simplicity, routine, and deliberate sacrifice reclaim the soul for Christ.

The consequences ripple outward: one priest’s neglect or consecrated person’s surrendered vow becomes a scandal that disorients families, discourages vocations, and normalizes compromise. The communal aspect of holiness is emphasised in the Catechism; our deeds tie and unbind the Body (cf. CCC 947–948; 1584–1589). Parish life deteriorates when entrusted souls indulge: catechesis becomes dwindling, confessions become empty, the youth lose faith, and the impoverished go uncared for. Yet history likewise records how faithful reparation repairs the breach. St. Monica’s tears became the pathway of Augustine’s conversion; St. Maximilian Kolbe’s offered life preserved souls in a camp’s horror; St. Teresa of Calcutta’s adoration and hidden service drew a culture of mercy over the neglected. The theology here is Eucharistic: priests and consecrated who live as “small hosts” offer their daily sufferings joined to Christ’s Sacrifice (cf. Col 1:24; Heb 13:15–16). Their quiet fidelity channels grace into places ravaged by pleasure, acting as a living sacrament that converts scandal into a field of renewal.

Therefore, practical reparation must be precise, humble, and communal. First, recover the Eucharistic source: sustained adoration, frequent confession, and Mass celebrated with deliberate intention for wayward brethren restore interior clarity (cf. CCC 1368; 1385–1397). Second, reclaim ascetic practices adapted to our age: scheduled fasting, nightly examen, digital fasts, and a disciplined rhythm of sleep and study that resists soft comforts. Third, foster accountability: spiritual direction, fraternity chapters, wise confessors, and episcopal oversight that combine mercy with repair. Seminaries and religious houses must integrate formation that resists prestige and trains for hidden fidelity—the reforms of St. Charles Borromeo and the patient craft of St. Ignatius’s Exercises remain exemplary. Fourth, enact concrete reparative acts: Masses offered for errant priests, weekly fasting for consecrated communities, public acts of penance when scandal occurs, and lay support through prayer and discreet charity. Lastly, cultivate the “small-host” disposition: offer each minor refusal—an unspoken irritation, a forfeited leisure, a withheld retort—as bread broken for another. In these small oblations, Christ multiplies what seems least, and where pleasures once devoured entrusted souls, the Eucharistic faithfulness of a few becomes the salvation of many.

Prayer 

O Adorable Jesus, make Your priests and consecrated true small hosts. Purify their desires, break the chains of selfish pleasure, renew their vows, and kindle Eucharistic fidelity. Let their hidden sacrifices heal the wounded, restore trust, and lead entrusted souls back to You, now and always. In Your mercy. Amen.

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