To Beloved Priests and Consecrated Souls

Divine Appeal Reflection  - 95

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 95: "Few among the souls that are consecrated to Me do not understand My Love. I want them all to know how greatly I desire them to renew their intimacy with Me. I refuse them nothing that is good for their souls. But they do not want Me. They only abuse and step on Me".

Beloved priests, beloved consecrated souls, so dear to the Heart of Our Adorable Jesus, receive this Appeal not as something heavy, but as something deeply personal—almost like a quiet conversation He is having with you alone (cf. Jn 15:15). You were chosen, yes—but more than that, you were seen. Before your responsibilities, before expectations, before even your own understanding of your vocation, He looked at you with love and called you by name . That moment still matters. It has not faded, even if it sometimes feels distant. Your vocation is not first about what you do,(cf. Jn 15:4–5) but about who you are with—about belonging to Him . The Catechism reminds us that your calling leads to holiness , but that holiness is not built on constant strength; it begins in quiet, hidden closeness with Jesus. Like the beloved disciple who simply rested near His Heart (cf. Jn 13:23), you are invited to be close—not in a way that removes reverence, but in a way that makes love real and lived. In your daily life—the Mass you celebrate (cf. Lk 22:19), the prayers you sometimes say tiredly , the people you serve, the expectations you carry—He keeps asking something very simple: are you still with Me? . Not perfectly. Not without struggle. Just… still there. Even when you feel tired (cf. Mt 11:28), distracted (cf. Ps 86:11), or empty inside , every small return matters. A short prayer, a quiet moment,(cf. Lk 15:20) even a sigh toward Him—He receives it all . You do not have to prove anything to Him, for His knowledge of you precedes your awareness of yourself. You do not have to carry the weight of your vocation alone, for Christ Himself is the hidden strength within it. You are not loved because you succeed or endure, but because you belong to the eternal will of the Father who calls you His own and does not revoke His love (cf. Jer 31:3; Col 1:17; 2 Cor 12:9).

When Jesus says that few understand His Love, He is not accusing you—He is gently opening His Heart to you,(cf. Jn 1:11; cf. Rev 3:20) almost like someone who longs to be understood but speaks without pressure . His Love is not measured by how much you accomplish, nor reduced by your weaknesses or limits. It simply desires to be known, received, and returned. Like Martha, you may find yourself constantly occupied with what is necessary and good , yet He still draws you toward the “one thing necessary”: to remain with Him, not just to work for Him . The Catechism (cf. CCC 1827) reminds us that charity is what gives life to every vocation , and without this living love, even generous service can slowly feel heavy, even tiring from within. In your real, everyday life—pastoral responsibilities, community expectations, hidden interior struggles—something very subtle can happen. Not a rejection of Jesus, but a quiet distance. You continue to serve Him faithfully, yet interiorly you may feel less with Him, less rested in His presence . This is where the Appeal becomes a grace, not a demand. It does not ask you to do more, but to return more deeply. A brief pause before the tabernacle (cf. CCC 1374), a recollected moment after Communion (cf. Jn 6:56), (cf. Col 3:17)a silent offering in the middle of your work —these are not small or insignificant. They are real moments of relationship. They are how love breathes again. And slowly, quietly, they begin to renew everything—not from the outside, but from within.

Dear priests, you who hold the Eucharist in your hands, and beloved consecrated souls, you who have placed your lives close to His Presence—this mystery is entrusted to you in a deeply personal way . Jesus remains there, hidden, quiet, and humble, waiting—not for perfection, but for your love . The Catechism calls the Eucharist the source and summit of all life (cf. CCC 1324), yet for you it is also something more intimate:(cf. CCC 1374) the place where He meets you personally, day after day . And He understands something you may not always say out loud—that familiarity can sometimes make the extraordinary feel ordinary. Like the Israelites who grew used to the manna , the heart can grow accustomed without meaning to. Do not be discouraged by this, and do not hide it, for the Lord works most tenderly in what you offer Him in truth, even when it is fragile or hidden (cf. 2 Cor 12:9; Rom 8:26). Bring it to Him simply, honestly. Even a small prayer—“Jesus, help me love You more” (cf. Mk 9:24)—is already a return. Remember Peter, who was not perfect, who struggled and failed, yet was entrusted with everything because he loved . That same tenderness is given to you. In every Mass you celebrate, even when tired , in every moment of adoration, even when distracted (cf. Ps 86:11), in every quiet act of fidelity that no one sees (cf. Mt 6:6), He is there—looking at you, loving you, (cf. Is 30:18) waiting patiently . Your presence before Him, even when it feels small or imperfect, consoles His Heart more than you realize. You do not need to feel deeply to be close. Simply staying, simply returning, (cf. Jn 15:9)simply being there with Him—that is already love .

When the Appeal speaks of indifference or even of stepping upon His Love, receive it with a humble openness that does not shrink back, yet without fear that paralyzes (cf. 1 Jn 4:18). These words do not come as an accusation, but as a revelation of a Heart that loves enough to speak truth in order to draw you closer (cf. Rev 3:19–20). Christ is not uncovering your weakness to expose you, but to enter more deeply into it with mercy (cf. Heb 4:15–16). He names what is fragile in you not to wound, but to heal; not to distance you, but to gather you into a more intimate communion where nothing is hidden from love . He sees the full weight you carry—the hidden fatigue, the quiet trials, the moments when your heart feels distant even while your life remains outwardly faithful . Like Elijah beneath the broom tree, emptied and overwhelmed (cf. 1 Kgs 19:4–8), you too may come to places where strength seems gone—but God does not respond with reproach. He approaches gently, nourishes without haste, and leads you back with a patience that never fails .The Catechism reminds us that conversion is not a single turning, but a continual work of grace unfolding within time (cf. CCC 1428; cf. Lk 9:23). Each day, then, is not a repetition of failure, but a renewed invitation into love. When prayer feels dry,(cf. Ps 63:1; cf. Jn 15:4) remain—not because you feel, but because you choose . When love feels fragile, offer it in its poverty . When distractions arise, return without interior harshness, trusting that every movement back to Him is already grace at work (cf. Prov 24:16; cf. Rom 8:26). This fidelity—quiet, persevering, and often unseen—is deeply pleasing to Him because it reflects His own constancy . The saints were not those who loved without struggle, (cf. Phil 3:13–14) but those who refused to stop returning . And this is what He asks of you: not greatness achieved by effort alone, but a heart that abides, that begins again, that remains. To stay with Him in this way is already to console His Heart and to live within His love .

Beloved priests and consecrated souls, receive now the deepest tenderness hidden within this Appeal: Jesus desires you. Not only what you do, not only what you offer, but your very presence with Him—your companionship, your nearness, your heart . Before every act of service, before every sacrifice, there is this simple and profound longing of His Heart: that you remain with Him (cf. Jn 15:9). Like the shepherd who goes out in search of the one sheep (cf. Lk 15:4–7), He comes after you—not with urgency that pressures, but with a patience that never tires and a love that never withdraws (cf. Is 49:15–16). The Catechism reminds us that even the first movement of return is already grace at work . This means you are never beginning alone. Even your desire to come back to Him is already His gift within you. Do not delay in small ways. Begin again, gently, where you are. Let your day be marked not by extraordinary resolutions, but by simple acts of love that slowly reawaken the heart: a more attentive genuflection (cf. Ps 95:6), a more recollected moment of prayer (cf. Mt 6:6), a more conscious awareness that He is truly present with you . These are not small in His eyes—they are seeds. Seeds of renewal within your own soul, and through you,(cf. 1 Cor 3:7) within the whole Church . You are not alone in this path. He walks with you in your duties (cf. Lk 24:15), remains with you in silence (cf. Jn 14:18), and sustains you even when you feel weak . Return to Him, not as servants who fear,(cf. Rom 8:15) but as beloved who are welcomed . His Heart is open—and it is not distant. It is your home.

Prayer

O Adorable Jesus, gentle and faithful Shepherd, sustain Your priests and consecrated souls. Renew their inner joy by Your power, and kindle within them a deep love for the Eucharist. Draw our hearts—whether in priestly ministry, consecrated life, or the duties of daily life—into ever deeper intimacy with Your Sacred Heart. Amen

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