Divine Appeal Reflection - 73
Today, consider in Divine Appeal 73:"In the Sacrament of My Love I am so lonely and afflicted without any visitors for many hours. In My tabernacles I am forgotten and rejected by very many souls."
Beloved souls, awaken your hearts and listen: the Eternal Son, before whom the heavens tremble and angels veil their faces , remains quietly hidden in our tabernacles. The same Jesus who calmed storms with a word (cf Mk 4:39), who walked upon the sea (cf Mt 14:25), who called Lazarus from the silence of death , now lives among us under the humble veil of the Eucharist. The Council of Trent solemnly affirmed that the whole Christ — (cf. CCC 1362–1367) Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity — remains beneath these humble signs, veiled yet fully real, a Presence both sacrificial and abiding . This truth is not only doctrine to be believed but mystery to be encountered, communion to be lived. Yet here the soul confronts a piercing contradiction: the King of the universe dwells quietly in countless churches where few hearts come to remain with Him. Love abides, yet is seldom visited. Presence endures,(cf. Mt 26:40; Rev 3:20) yet is rarely accompanied .
St. John Paul II, reflecting deeply on this Eucharistic mystery, sorrowfully observed that the Lord is often left almost abandoned—quietly waiting, offering Himself to distracted hearts (cf Rev 3:20). Thus the hidden life of Jesus Christ continues in sacramental humility: Love dwelling unrecognized among His own, patiently awaiting their return (cf Jn 1:10–11; Heb 13:5).In daily life, people organize every hour around work, studies, or anxieties, yet rarely around the living Presence sustaining their existence . Like the Bridegroom searching through the night (cf Sg 5:2–6), Christ knocks gently upon human attention. His whisper from Gethsemane still echoes through history: remain with Me (cf Mt 26:40). This solitude is not weakness but the astonishing humility of divine love.
This Eucharistic solitude wounds the Heart of Christ not primarily through hostility but through quiet neglect. Humanity rarely persecutes the Eucharist openly; it simply forgets. Like travelers who passed the wounded man on the road (cf Lk 10:31–32), many hurry past church doors with respectable explanations. Yet the Second Vatican Council solemnly taught that the Eucharist is the living heart of Christian existence—the inexhaustible source from which the Church’s life continually springs and is renewed (cf 1 Cor 10:16–17; Jn 6:53–57). St. John Paul II deepened this vision, affirming that the Church truly lives from the Eucharist; whenever this divine center is obscured, faith gradually loses vitality, (cf Jn 15:5; Rev 2:4–5) and the fire of apostolic mission grows dim . Our Adorable Jesus does not reproach human responsibilities. He sanctified ordinary labor during the quiet years of Nazareth . Yet He desires to be included in our daily rhythm. The Catechism (cf CCC 1393–1395) explains that Holy Communion strengthens union with Christ and protects the soul from grave sin . Even a few faithful moments before the tabernacle with a spiritual communion quietly reshape the interior landscape. What once felt tense begins to yield; anxieties soften, resentments loosen, and the wandering heart finds again its hidden center . In seeking to console the Eucharistic solitude of Jesus Christ, the believer gradually discovers a deeper mystery: the One they come to comfort has already been gently healing and consoling them from within.
Mystically, every silent church shelters a continuation of Calvary. The sacrifice of the Cross is made sacramentally present in the Eucharist (cf CCC 1366–1367). The Council of Trent clarified that the same sacrifice offered on Golgotha becomes present upon the altar in an unbloody manner. Beneath the appearance of bread rests the Lamb once slain yet living forever (cf Rev 5:6–9). When a believer kneels before the tabernacle, they mystically stand with Mary and the beloved disciple at the foot of the Cross in reparation. St. John Paul II explained that every Eucharistic celebration draws the Church into the very hour of Christ’s sacrifice. Reparation means refusing to leave Love alone. In contemplative stillness Christ reshapes the human heart: hidden pride is softened, wounds are healed, (cf Ps 51:10–12) fidelity grows strong . Apostolically, adoration never remains sterile. Like Moses descending Sinai radiant with divine light (cf Ex 34:29–30), the adorer carries quiet fire into workplaces, families, and society. The tabernacle becomes the hidden furnace where authentic Christian witness is formed.
Beloved souls across every vocation—priests weary from ministry, parents stretched by sacrifice, students searching for meaning, workers carrying silent burdens—hear this Eucharistic appeal. Our Adorable Jesus waits personally for each heart. On the Cross He cried out in thirst (cf Jn 19:28), revealing the divine longing for human love. The Catechism (cf CCC 1397) teaches that the Eucharist commits believers to charity because communion with Christ creates communion among His people . St. Peter Julian Eymard, one of the Church’s great apostles of the Eucharist, called the tabernacle the living Heart of Jesus beating among humanity. When no one approaches, that Heart continues beating in silent fidelity. Love often begins in movements so quiet they scarcely draw attention: a brief pause before the tabernacle in the middle of an ordinary day, a lingering thanksgiving when the church grows empty, a simple prayer whispered before stepping back into life’s demands. Yet grace gathers power in such hidden fidelity (cf Zech 4:10; Mt 6:6). Like Peter after his denial, whose heart was pierced and restored beneath the Lord’s merciful gaze (cf Lk 22:61–62; Jn 21:15–17), one true encounter with Christ can reawaken courage, (cf Ps 51:12; 2 Cor 12:9) steady the wavering soul, and rekindle love that seemed lost . Fidelity in adoration gradually reshapes the soul. Even one faithful visitor consoles the Heart of Christ and strengthens the entire Mystical Body (cf 1 Cor 12:26–27).
Beloved souls, awaken your hearts with holy urgency. The King of Heaven remains hidden in our midst, waiting with patient love beneath fragile sacramental veils (cf Jn 6:51–58; CCC 1374). Therefore begin anew today with renewed interior resolve. You should not let another week to elapse without visiting the Eucharistic Jesus because He dwells in the Eucharist as the Church's living presence. St Josemaría Escrivá encouraged souls to cultivate a habit of greeting Jesus whenever they passed a church. For him, this simple gesture was not sentimental devotion but a practical path to sanctity within ordinary responsibilities. The Gospel itself shows how brief encounters with Christ transform lives: Zacchaeus climbed a tree to glimpse Him and discovered conversion (cf Lk 19:3–9), while the hemorrhaging woman touched His garment and found healing . In similar ways, a short pause before the tabernacle—perhaps only a moment of recollection—becomes a silent dialogue between the soul and its Savior. The Catechism (cf CCC 1418) reminds the faithful that Eucharistic adoration prolongs the grace of the sacrifice and deepens participation in Christ’s love . That same Eucharistic humility still waits today in every tabernacle—quiet, faithful, and infinitely patient. Our Adorable Jesus stands at the door of every human heart and knocks with gentle persistence . His solitude is not condemnation but invitation, the silent appeal of Love seeking companionship. When even one soul responds—however imperfectly—grace slowly reorders the entire interior life (cf Jn 6:56–57). Gradually the forgotten Christ becomes the most faithful companion of the journey. The once-silent tabernacle becomes the luminous center of existence, and in a mysterious reversal we discover that the One who seemed abandoned has quietly been sustaining us all along (cf Heb 13:5–6)
Prayer
Our Adorable Jesus, hidden and waiting in love, awaken our sleeping hearts. Forgive our indifference. Draw us faithfully to Your Eucharistic Presence. Make us consolers of Your loneliness and living witnesses in every vocation. May our daily visits kindle apostolic fire and transform our lives into abiding communion with You. Amen.
Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.
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