Children Who Rebel Against Their Parents

Divine Appeal Reflection - 40

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 40:  "children who rebel against their parents"

From the heights of eternity, our Adorable Jesus gazes upon families with a Heart pierced by love, not accusation. He reveals that rebellion in children is not first a failure of obedience, but a fracture in communion. In Scripture,(cf. Gen 3:8; Gen 4:9; Lk 15:13) rebellion always begins when relationship is obscured: Adam hides, Cain withdraws, the prodigal departs . Jesus invites us to see rebellion as a spiritual dislocation—a soul forgetting where it belongs. The Catechism (CCC 2201–2203) teaches that the family is a communion of persons, ordered toward love and life . When this communion is wounded by absence, fear, unresolved anger, or silent expectations, children often protest through resistance. In daily life this may look ordinary: sarcasm at the table, refusal to pray, secret defiance. Yet heaven sees tears behind the rebellion. Here, St. Philip Neri illuminates this divine appeal from ground level, where rebellion first stirs—not in doctrine rejected, but in joy suffocated. He did not preach from marble steps but moved through Rome’s dust, because he knew the human heart tightens before it hardens. His humor unsettled the proud because it exposed a forgotten truth: joy is native to the soul, planted there by God Himself (cf. Gen 1; CCC 1704). Philip understood that when joy is neglected, it does not die—it distorts. What is not lifted upward turns inward, then outward as restlessness, mockery, excess, or defiance. This is the quiet root of many rebellions, especially in the young, whose interior world feels unseen and unbearably compressed (cf. Prov 13; CCC 2223).

St. Philip’s laughter was not escape but resistance—refusal to let the soul decay from within. Like David dancing before the Ark, he sanctified delight by returning it to God before it became self-serving (cf. 2 Sam 6). In this way, he taught parents and spiritual fathers that discipline without joy breeds revolt, while joy without God breeds disorder. Jesus Himself reveals this mystery when He speaks of His desire that His joy be in us, (cf. Jn 15; CCC 736) full and enduring . Philip later confessed, with piercing honesty, that joy must be offered to God or it will demand release on its own terms. Thus, sanctified joy became his hidden pedagogy—joy kneeling before obedience, freedom ripening into love. In families today, Christ shows that where joy is blessed, rebellion softens; where joy is ignored, hearts seek escape. Jesus, gazing upon families today with tender clarity, reveals that many children do not rebel from malice, but from an inner world grown painfully constricted, where unheard questions and unheld fears press outward, searching for air. They are searching for air. Parents, burdened by bills, fatigue, and unspoken fears, may love deeply yet communicate tension rather than trust. Children absorb this silently. Rebellion then becomes a kind of breathing—imperfect, noisy, sometimes destructive—but human. St. Philip never began with correction; he began with presence, humor, and warmth, creating spaces where hearts could exhale. Only later did he guide souls gently toward holiness. Jesus invites parents to do the same: before fixing behavior, make room for the child’s humanity. When a child feels safe to breathe, laughter slowly replaces defiance, and the heart, no longer suffocating, begins on its own to turn toward God. The Lord gently calls parents first—not to strategies, but to His Heart. Only hearts resting in God can become safe places where rebellion begins to soften into honesty.

Our Adorable Jesus reigns from the Cross, revealing that true authority is cruciform love. He never coerces hearts; He attracts them. The Catechism (CCC 2234–2237) affirms that parental authority must mirror God’s own fatherhood, exercised with tenderness and firmness . Rebellion intensifies when authority is reduced to control or fear. In daily scenarios—scolding without listening, punishing without explaining—children experience power without presence. Jesus shows another way. He corrects Peter, (cf. Mt 16:23; Mt 16:19) yet entrusts him with the keys . Saints grasped this mystery. Reason, faith, and loving-kindness, according to St. John Bosco, must function as a single entity rather than as competitors.  When separated, authority hardens and rebellion sharpens. Lived practically, this harmony looks ordinary and demanding: parents drawing clear boundaries without anger, explaining the “why” with patience, and remaining faithful to consequences without cruelty. Yet Bosco knew the deepest credibility comes not from perfection but humility. Thus, loving-kindness dares to kneel—parents naming their failures, asking forgiveness, and teaching by repentance what no rule can convey. Such humility disarms rebellion. In every vocation—parent, teacher—the Cross teaches that love which suffers for the other purifies authority. Scripture warns through Eli that neglecting correction wounds children (cf. 1 Sam 3:13), yet Jesus shows that correction without love wounds deeper. Authority must be baptized in prayer. When parents kneel before God, their words carry a hidden weight. Children may resist commands, but they cannot escape the silent testimony of a heart surrendered to Christ.

Jesus draws our gaze to the father who stands daily at the road,(cf. Lk 15:20) scanning the horizon . This posture reveals heaven’s pedagogy: steadfast presence without coercion. The Catechism reminds parents that they must respect the freedom of their children while forming their conscience (CCC 2228–2230). Rebellion often grows when freedom is either crushed or abandoned. Practically, this requires courage: allowing consequences without rejection, refusing to finance destructive choices while keeping the door of relationship open. In daily life, this may mean painful silence at dinner, unanswered messages, or years of waiting. St. Monica teaches that prayer is never wasted time; her tears became Augustine’s theology. Scripture presents Tobit blessing his son daily, entrusting him to God’s providence (cf. Tob 4:1–5). Parents are called to bless even when unacknowledged. Jesus warns against despair,(cf. Jn 11:40) which blinds faith . Rebellion is not the end of the story; it is often the desert before encounter. In all states of life, those who accompany the young must learn holy patience. God works in hiddenness. What seems lost may be ripening underground. Jesus asks parents not to define themselves by visible outcomes, but by fidelity. He is writing a longer story than we can see.

We end where heaven begins: in hope that resounds beyond failure. Our Adorable Jesus proclaims that no rebellion escapes His redemptive fire. The Cross stands at the center of every family history, promising resurrection where love perseveres (cf. Rom 8:38–39). The Catechism teaches that the Christian family participates in the Church’s mission, becoming a domestic sanctuary of grace (CCC 2204–2206). When parents forgive seventy times seven, they preach the Gospel more loudly than words. In daily life, this resurrection hope is lived through quiet fidelity: a mother whispering her child’s name before the tabernacle, a father blessing a sleeping rebel with the sign of the Cross. St. Francis de Sales assures us that nothing is so strong as gentleness sustained over time. Scripture (cf. Mal 4:6) promises that God turns hearts across generations . Jesus assures parents that their love, united to His Sacrifice, enters eternity. Rebellion, when held inside persevering love, becomes holy ground. What once resisted God begins to echo with His footsteps. At this height we see clearly: the Father remains at the threshold, the Son pleads within the wound, and the Spirit labors patiently in the hidden chambers of the heart. Families surrendered to this mystery will one day behold how every tear watered a hidden resurrection.

Prayer

O Adorable Jesus, Hidden Fire of obedience and mercy, descend into homes where hearts feel unseen. Sanctify our joys before they harden into defiance. Heal children who cry without words, and parents who rule without tenderness. May all rebellion dissolve in the light of Your patient love. Amen.

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