Divine Appeal Reflection - 74
Today, consider in Divine Appeal 74: "Bitter ingratitude has wounded My Heart. What a pain to Me!"
The Gospel account of the ten lepers recorded in the Gospel of Luke reveals a profound theological anthropology — an unveiling of how divine grace encounters human freedom and awaits response. All ten received the same visible healing, an objective manifestation of mercy given without partiality (cf. Lk 17:12–18; Mt 5:45). Yet only one returned, revealing that grace offered does not eliminate freedom, (cf. Sir 15:14–17) but summons it into relationship . The miracle restored all physically, but gratitude transformed only one interiorly, drawing him into deeper communion with the Giver (cf. Lk 17:19; Jas 4:8). Thus the narrative exposes a fundamental spiritual law: God’s saving action precedes human response,(cf. Dt 8:10; Rom 1:21) yet its fullness unfolds only where freedom turns back in recognition and praise . The event becomes more than healing — it becomes revelation. Grace is universal in offer, but personal in reception; abundant in gift, yet relational in fulfillment . This contrast exposes a mystery deeper than physical restoration: grace is offered universally, but communion requires response. Jesus Christ heals generously, yet the human heart often receives divine gifts without entering divine relationship. Scripture consistently reveals this pattern: Israel receives manna yet murmurs (cf Ex 16:2–8); humanity enjoys creation yet forgets the Creator (cf Wis 13:1).
The Catechism teaches that grace is entirely gratuitous and precedes human merit (cf CCC 1996), (cf CCC 2638) and that intercessory and thankful prayer flows from recognizing this radical dependence . In ordinary life this spiritual amnesia appears quietly. One prays fervently in distress yet becomes self-sufficient in relief. One begs for divine intervention yet later attributes success to personal strength (cf Dt 8:11–18). St. Ignatius of Loyola identified ingratitude as a root disorder of the spiritual life because it obscures God’s continuous action in history and in the soul. The nine lepers embody this blindness: grace touched their bodies, but not their interior orientation. Without thanksgiving, healing remains external. Divine mercy becomes an event rather than a relationship. Thus the sorrow of the Heart of Christ is not merely rejection—it is forgotten love. When the soul does not return, grace remains received but not welcomed, experienced but not contemplated, granted but not transformed into communion (cf Hos 11:1–4).
The one who returned reveals the first movement of authentic thanksgiving: awakened awareness. Upon perceiving his healing (cf Lk 17:15), he turns back. This turning is not geographical but theological—it is conversion of perception. Gratitude begins when the soul recognizes reality as gift. St. Augustine of Hippo described the human heart as restless until it discovers that all good originates in God’s merciful initiative. This awakening corresponds to the biblical call to remembrance, a central covenantal act (cf Dt 6:12; Ps 103:2). The Catechism teaches that thanksgiving permeates Christian prayer precisely because salvation itself is pure gift (cf CCC 2637). The healed leper interrupts his forward movement—symbol of human striving—to contemplate divine action. In daily life this contemplative pause is decisive. A parent discerning hidden grace within routine burdens, a worker perceiving providence within difficulty, or a seminarian recognizing wisdom beyond personal capacity—these moments constitute spiritual illumination (cf Jas 1:17). Gratitude transforms perception: what once appeared ordinary becomes sacramental, a sign mediating divine presence. Even suffering (cf Rom 8:28) acquires meaning when recognized within providential love . The returning leper demonstrates that thanksgiving begins with interior recollection—the soul gathering scattered awareness and directing it toward God. This remembrance guards against spiritual dissipation.
The Gospel further reveals that gratitude seeks expression. The healed man glorifies God with a loud voice and falls at Christ’s feet (cf Lk 17:15–16). Interior awareness overflows into proclamation. Scripture (cf Ps 34:1; 50:14; Heb 13:15) consistently unites remembrance with praise . The Catechism (cf CCC 2649) explains that praise arises when the soul recognizes God simply for who He is and what He has done . St. John Chrysostom taught that a grateful voice consecrates time itself, transforming daily speech into liturgy. Spoken gratitude has ecclesial power—it builds faith within community. Silence about grace allows forgetfulness to spread; proclamation preserves memory. This explains why biblical faith (cf Ps 66:16) is inherently testimonial . Speech shapes interior reality; repeated gratitude forms habitual reverence. Conversely, habitual complaint forms interior resistance to grace (cf Phil 2:14–15). The leper’s loud praise signifies courageous faith—he refuses private gratitude detached from public witness. His voice did more than express personal gratitude—it revealed mercy as a living reality meant for all. What began as an individual healing became a sign for the community, a visible proclamation that God still acts among His people (cf Mk 5:19). In the same way, whenever believers give voice to thanksgiving, they do more than speak—they preserve and transmit the living memory of divine love. Gratitude, once spoken, does not remain private; it becomes witness, (cf Ps 107:2) fulfilling the call that the redeemed must openly declare what the Lord has done . The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that praise and thanksgiving arise from hearts that recognize God’s saving works and proclaim them (cf CCC 2649). Thus grateful speech becomes mission itself— (cf Acts 1:8) words shaped by mercy are sent outward to strengthen faith and awaken hope . Through thanksgiving that is spoken and heard, grace is remembered, shared, and made present again in the life of the world.
Yet the leper’s thanksgiving is not confined to speech; it becomes embodied. He approaches Christ physically (cf Lk 17:16) and prostrates himself . Gratitude engages the whole person—intellect, voice, and body. This gesture reveals that thanksgiving culminates in relational surrender. The Catechism (cf CCC 1822) teaches that charity is the form of all virtues and the living response to divine love . Scripture consistently links encounter with transformation: (cf Lk 19:8) Zacchaeus restores justice ; (cf Lk 22:32) Peter strengthens brethren after mercy received ; (cf Lk 7:47) the forgiven woman loves greatly . The nine lepers resumed their path unchanged; the one who returned entered communion. This reveals a fundamental spiritual law: thanksgiving converts blessing into intimacy. In daily life, embodied gratitude appears through fidelity to duty, generosity toward the needy, (cf Col 3:15–17) patience within suffering, and reconciliation with others . Every act of charity becomes sacramental memory— (cf 1 Jn 4:19) love given because love was first received . When a thankful soul is open to grace, the world can experience the flow of heavenly giving.
The culmination of the narrative reveals the ultimate fruit of gratitude. Christ declares (cf Lk 17:19) that the returning leper’s faith has brought him salvation . All were healed; only one was restored in the fullness of covenantal communion. Gratitude opened his interior capacity for salvation. The Catechism (cf CCC 2639) teaches that thanksgiving leads naturally to deeper praise and union with God . St. John Paul II emphasized that Christian existence must become eucharistic—structured entirely around thanksgiving. The Eucharist is the definitive return of humanity to God through Christ — (cf. 1 Cor 11:23–26; Lk 22:19–20) remembrance, praise, offering, and communion inseparably united . It is the living memorial through which redemption is not only recalled but entered anew, where thanksgiving becomes participation and sacrifice becomes communion (cf. Heb 13:15; Jn 6:56). The healed leper anticipates this profoundly eucharistic posture — he returns, glorifies God aloud, offers himself in grateful surrender,(cf. Lk 17:11–19) and receives not only healing but restored relationship . His return reveals that grace seeks completion in thanksgiving, and blessing finds fulfillment in communion.
Daily life becomes eucharistic when the believer continually returns to Christ in every movement of existence. The morning offering becomes remembrance — placing the whole day within the saving mystery (cf. Rom 12:1). Work becomes oblation — ordinary labor united to divine purpose (cf. Col 3:17). Charity becomes communion — love shared because Love has first been received (cf. Jn 13:34–35). Evening reflection becomes praise — (cf. Ps 116:12–17) the heart lifting gratitude for mercies seen and unseen . The narrative of the ten lepers ultimately poses an enduring spiritual question that echoes through every generation:(cf. Jas 1:17; Rev 3:20) do we merely receive grace, or do we return to the Giver? Gratitude determines whether grace remains an isolated event or becomes living communion. Healing may restore the body — but returning restores the heart. When the soul continually returns in thanksgiving, existence itself becomes liturgy. Every breath becomes praise, and the Heart of Christ—so often forgotten—finds consolation in a soul that remembers love.
Prayer
Our Adorable Jesus, we return to You in reverent gratitude. Awaken our memory of Your mercy in every moment. Let our thoughts recall, our voices proclaim, and our actions embody thanksgiving. Transform our lifes into continual praise, that receiving Your grace, we may remain always with You in love. Amen.
Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.
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