Divine Appeal Reflection - 65
Today, consider in Divine Appeal 65: "I feel great pain to be neglected and ridiculed."
There is a quiet majesty in the Heart of Our Adorable Jesus, infinitely tender, infinitely patient, yet infinitely wounded when ignored and ridiculed. Every sneer at virtue, every cynical glance at mercy, every whispered joke at prayer pierces His Sacred Heart, echoing the mockery He endured from soldiers, scribes, and indifferent crowds . Yet neglect wounds even deeper: it is the slow erasure of presence, the fading of attention, the prayers unanswered, the devotions skipped, the small acts of love that go unseen, silently proclaiming,(cf. Rev 3:20; Isa 65:2; Lk 15:4) “You do not matter enough to be noticed” . In our distracted lives—when social media scrolls replace quiet prayer, hurried routines overshadow acts of charity, or family and friends fail to notice devotion—His Heart waits in patient sorrow, fully present yet quietly aching . Human neglect and ridicule do not diminish Him; instead, our hidden fidelity, patient love, and silent offering unite with His Sacred Heart, transforming pain into intimate union. Each unnoticed prayer, each blessing offered to those who scorn, becomes a luminous act of love, teaching the soul that fidelity to Christ is measured not by applause, but by enduring love, present even in silence and invisibility .
Ridicule differs from neglect by turning sacred intimacy into triviality. Where neglect ignores, ridicule diminishes. Throughout salvation history, divine love is not only overlooked but treated as unnecessary, naive, or excessive. The prophets experienced this pattern, bearing God’s message among those who mocked what they refused to understand (cf. Jer 20:7–8). Wisdom literature speaks of the righteous being laughed at because they trust what others cannot see . In the Passion, ridicule reached its summit when divine mercy was surrounded by scorn, crowned with contempt, and treated as weakness (cf. Mt 27:27–31). The Catechism explains that hardness of heart blinds the human person to divine truth, distorting perception itself (cf. CCC 1865). Ridicule therefore is not merely social mockery; it is spiritual blindness reacting defensively to holiness. In modern life, ridicule may not always be loud. It appears in subtle embarrassment about faith, in silence when truth should be spoken, in reducing prayer to private sentiment rather than living allegiance. Many souls experience interior pressure to appear “reasonable,” “balanced,” or “practical,” quietly pushing Christ to the margins of decision-making. Our Adorable Jesus receives ridicule with the same patient mercy with which He receives neglect: not defending Himself, not withdrawing His presence, but continuing to pour forth love that remains unmoved by rejection or misunderstanding . His silence is not defeat, but redemptive patience: (cf. Rev 3:20) love persevering where love is least recognized, mercy remaining where gratitude is absent, presence abiding where welcome is withheld .Even when ignored, misjudged, or treated with irreverence, He remains steadfast — (cf. 1 Cor 13:7) offering Himself still, loving still, interceding still — the living embodiment of charity that “bears all things and endures all things” .
When Our Adorable Jesus reveals pain at neglect and ridicule, He is not expressing human fragility but divine appeal. Love that seeks communion must allow itself to be refused, ignored, or misunderstood; otherwise freedom would not be real . His sorrow therefore reveals the dignity He grants to human response. God does not impose relationship—He invites, waits, and suffers the cost of that waiting. This divine patience echoes throughout history: (cf. Hos 11:1–9) the Lord enduring Israel’s forgetfulness, recalling them through prophets, preserving covenant despite repeated indifference . The Catechism (cf. CCC 1432, 1847) describes this as the astonishing persistence of mercy that never abandons the sinner but continually calls to return . In daily life, this appeal is often felt through quiet interior movements — gentle impulses to pray, a subtle unease after moral compromise, a sudden awareness of sacred presence in ordinary moments. These are not random disturbances but grace-filled invitations that awaken the conscience and draw the soul back toward communion . The Spirit works not by force but by interior illumination, stirring recollection where forgetfulness had settled and prompting conversion before hardness deepens .
Such movements may appear small — a pause before speaking harshly, a desire to enter a church, an unexpected call to repentance — yet they are living signs of divine patience at work within the heart. They reveal God’s nearness, not as intrusion but as merciful guidance, inviting cooperation with grace before sin matures and distance from Him grows . Each interior stirring is therefore a moment of mitigation — mercy quietly intervening, love gently redirecting, presence calling the soul back into attentive communion . Neglect often happens not through hostility but through postponement: later prayer, delayed conversion, partial generosity. Yet divine love interprets delay as distance. Saints teach that the smallest sincere response consoles the Heart of Christ because it restores living reciprocity. His pain is therefore transformative—it awakens conscience, deepens awareness, and calls the soul into attentive love. To hear His sorrow is already to be drawn into deeper communion.
Every vocation becomes a place where the soul can respond to the neglect Christ experiences in the world. The contemplative responds through sustained presence; the parent through patient love; the worker through faithful offering of ordinary labor; the sufferer through silent union with redemptive endurance (cf. Col 1:24). The Catechism teaches that human life becomes a spiritual offering when united to Christ’s self-giving (cf. CCC 901). This means that attentive love in small actions directly consoles divine love where it is ignored elsewhere. Saints frequently emphasize that reparation is not dramatic but relational—simply loving where love is absent. In daily routines, one can pause before beginning tasks, acknowledge Christ inwardly, offer moments of fidelity when distraction tempts indifference. Listening deeply to another person, honoring truth without compromise, or guarding reverence in worship all become acts of living consolation. Biblical figures reveal this pattern: Mary of Bethany attentive at the Lord’s presence (cf. Lk 10:39), the faithful women remaining near the Cross (cf. Jn 19:25), (cf. 1 Sam 3:10) the prophet who listens when others refuse . These lives show that divine sorrow invites human companionship. The neglected Christ does not seek grand gestures but steady presence—souls willing to remain where others pass by.
Nowhere is divine neglect more visible—and more redemptive—than in the Eucharistic presence. Here Our Adorable Jesus remains continuously accessible, yet often unvisited, quietly available yet frequently unnoticed. This sacramental humility fulfills the pattern of divine hiddenness throughout salvation history: (cf. Ex 34:6; CCC 1374) God choosing nearness that does not compel attention . Many pass by sacred presence absorbed in urgent concerns, unaware that eternal love waits within ordinary space. Yet precisely in this hiddenness, divine patience shines most intensely. The Eucharist shows a love that is too humble for human beings to fully understand because this love remains in forgotten places and provides gifts that people rarely see and maintains its existence in the face of misunderstanding and silent mockery. It does not demand recognition to remain. It does not withdraw when ignored. It stays… simply because it loves. Saints testify that simple Eucharistic attention repairs vast spiritual indifference. Time spent in reverent awareness restores relational balance—love responding to love.
In modern life filled with noise, speed, and constant stimulation, Eucharistic stillness becomes prophetic. It declares that presence matters more than activity, communion more than performance. To remain attentively before Christ is to answer the deepest cry of His hidden love — to say with one’s presence what words often fail to express: You matter. Attention is love made visible. The heart that remains tells Him what neglect denies — that His Presence is not background, not habit, not duty… but treasure.And this is why the remedy to neglect is not intensity, but fidelity. Intensity flares and fades. Fidelity stays. It is the steady gaze, the returning step, the daily choosing to be present even when nothing is felt. Love that perseveres in quiet awareness restores what indifference erodes. To live this way is to console the Heart that is so often left waiting. Not by doing more — but by being with Him longer, more consciously, more faithfully. Sustained awareness becomes companionship. And companionship becomes love that refuses to leave. Love heals what indifference wounds by simply remaining present.
Prayer
Our Adorable Jesus, forgive our indifference when You wait unseen beside us. Teach our hearts to notice Your silent nearness, to honor Your hidden sorrow, to console Your neglected love through faithful presence. May every thought, duty, and prayer proclaim: You matter infinitely. Let us never pass You by again. Amen.
Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.
No comments:
Post a Comment