Divine Appeal Reflection - 163
Today, consider in Divine Appeal 163: "I want mankind to repent and to know the seriousness of the state of this earth and the inexorable justice of God if they do not pray and heed My Words given from My Divine Mercy."
The seriousness of the state of the earth can be contemplated far beyond environmental crisis alone. Scripture presents the earth as deeply affected by the moral and spiritual condition of humanity (cf. Gen 3:17–19; Hos 4:1–3). When human beings abandon God, disorder gradually enters relationships, families, economies, communities, and even humanity's relationship with creation . The earth therefore becomes, in a mysterious sense, a mirror of the human heart. Cain's violence against Abel is not merely a private crime; it reveals what happens when wounded desire is permitted to mature into hatred (cf. Gen 4:3–10). Ahab and Jezebel's seizure of Naboth's vineyard (cf. 1 Kgs 21:1–16) reveals how greed can turn power into oppression . Amos (cf. Amos 2:6–8; 8:4–6) sees the spiritual sickness of Israel through dishonest commerce, exploitation of labourers, and indifference toward the poor . The seriousness of the earth today can likewise be seen in less spectacular but deeply human situations. A worker receives wages too small to feed his family while an employer continually increases personal luxury (cf. Jas 5:1–6). A domestic worker is treated as invisible inside the home where she serves (cf. Deut 24:14–15). A child grows up surrounded by adults who are physically present but emotionally absent because their lives are consumed by screens, money, or status (cf. Deut 6:6–7). An elderly person dies surrounded by possessions but starved of companionship (cf. Sir 3:12–14). A young person becomes convinced that his worth depends upon appearance, followers, money, or sexual attention (cf. 1 Jn 2:15–17). These are signs of an earth that is spiritually disordered because the human person has forgotten his origin and destiny in God (cf. CCC 355–358). St Hildegard of Bingen perceived creation as permeated by the life-giving wisdom of God, while St Francis of Assisi embodied a relationship with creation rooted in praise rather than possession. The Church (cf. CCC 2415–2418) therefore calls humanity to responsible stewardship while insisting that ecological conversion begins with conversion of the human heart . The state of the earth becomes serious wherever human beings cease seeing creation, other people, and even themselves as gifts entrusted to them by God. (cf. Gen 1:26–31).
There is a deeper spiritual crisis beneath many visible crises: humanity can become technologically powerful while becoming morally and spiritually impoverished (cf. Rom 1:22–25). Scripture (cf. Deut 8:11–18) warns that abundance does not automatically produce wisdom . Solomon possesses extraordinary wealth and wisdom, yet his heart eventually becomes divided through disordered attachments (cf. 1 Kgs 3:5–13; 11:1–10). The rich fool likewise imagines that accumulated possessions can secure his existence,(cf. Lk 12:13–21) only to discover the poverty of a soul that has forgotten God . The seriousness of the earth is therefore visible whenever material progress becomes disconnected from human dignity. Consider a city where magnificent buildings rise while people sleep beneath bridges (cf. Prov 14:31). Consider hospitals with advanced equipment where exhausted caregivers have insufficient time to treat patients with tenderness (cf. Mt 25:35–40). Consider universities producing highly skilled professionals while students increasingly struggle with loneliness, meaninglessness, and moral confusion . Consider businesses that advertise ethical values while quietly exploiting workers who cannot afford to protest (cf. Lev 19:13). Consider digital technology capable of connecting millions while families sitting in the same room barely speak to one another (cf. Eph 4:29). Consider a society that protects possessions more fiercely than human dignity . These contradictions reveal a civilisation capable of extraordinary external achievement while neglecting the interior person (cf. Mk 8:36). St Maximus the Confessor offers a particularly profound mystical perspective: creation becomes properly understood when humanity's fragmented desires are reconciled in Christ rather than exploited according to self-interest. St Bonaventure's theology of creation likewise sees created realities as signs leading the mind toward their Creator rather than objects to be possessed absolutely. The earth becomes spiritually endangered when the creature forgets the Creator and consequently forgets the meaning of creaturehood (cf. Rom 1:25). The Catechism (cf. CCC 293–301; CCC 2415) teaches that creation exists for the glory of God and that human beings are entrusted with responsibility toward the created world . The crisis therefore cannot be solved merely by changing external systems while leaving greed, vanity, indifference, and injustice untouched . A cleaner environment without a cleaner heart remains incomplete. Greater wealth without greater solidarity remains dangerous. More technology without greater wisdom can magnify human destructiveness (cf. Gen 11:1–9). The healing of the earth requires the healing of the human capacity to receive, reverence, restrain, share, and give thanks. (cf. 1 Tim 4:4–5).
Perhaps the most confronting way to understand the seriousness of the earth is to look at the people whom the earth's systems have taught us not to see (cf. Prov 31:8–9). Jesus repeatedly enters places of human abandonment. He notices Bartimaeus when the crowd wants him silent (cf. Mk 10:46–52). He notices Zacchaeus (cf. Lk 19:1–10) when respectable people despise him . He notices the widow placing two small coins into the treasury when wealthy contributions receive greater public attention (cf. Mk 12:41–44). He notices the bleeding woman who touches Him anonymously within a crowd (cf. Mk 5:25–34). He notices the man at Bethesda who has suffered for decades and asks him a question others apparently stopped asking (cf. Jn 5:1–9). These Gospel scenes reveal something astonishing: the seriousness of the earth is measured not only by what happens in its centres of power, but by what happens to its invisible people (cf. Mt 25:31–46). Consider the migrant who cleans offices before dawn but is never greeted by those entering them. Consider the widow who has become economically dependent upon relatives who treat her as a burden (cf. 1 Tim 5:3–8). Consider the child born into poverty who is judged for behaviour produced partly by deprivation (cf. Sir 4:1–10). Consider the prisoner who has committed a crime and is now treated as though he has ceased to possess human dignity (cf. Heb 13:3). Consider the person struggling with homelessness who is avoided because his appearance makes others uncomfortable . Consider the elderly man whose family believes that paying for his care is equivalent to loving him, while he longs primarily for their presence . Consider the woman trapped in domestic violence who is told by religious people simply to endure more, when what she needs includes safety, justice, protection, and competent support (cf. Ps 82:3–4). These situations reveal why conversion cannot remain private. St Jeanne Jugan recognized Christ in abandoned elderly people; St Vincent de Paul organized practical charity around the dignity of the poor; St Peter Claver placed himself at the service of enslaved people whom society had reduced to property. Their lives demonstrate that spiritual awakening changes whom we notice (cf. 1 Jn 3:16–18). The Catechism teaches that love for the poor is inseparable from love of Christ (cf. CCC 2443–2449). A civilisation becomes spiritually sick when suffering can be seen without compassion, injustice can be known without courage, and abandonment can become ordinary. (cf. Lk 16:19–31). The state of the earth is serious wherever human beings can look directly into another person's suffering and still continue comfortably as though nothing has happened (cf. 1 Jn 4:20–21).
There is another mysterious dimension: the phrase concerning the state of the earth can be brought inward. There is an earth within every human being—the interior landscape where thoughts, desires, memories, wounds, choices, and intentions grow (cf. Mk 4:3–20). Jesus' parable of the sower reveals that the same seed can produce radically different outcomes depending upon the condition of the soil (cf. Mk 4:14–20). The external world can therefore be troubled because the interior worlds of millions of people are troubled. A woman carries fear of abandonment into every friendship. A priest carries an unacknowledged hunger for admiration into ministry. A religious carries hidden competition into community life. A businessman carries insecurity into relentless accumulation. A young person carries loneliness into compulsive digital consumption. An elderly person carries years of unspoken grief into silence (cf. Ps 32:3–5). None of these realities appears immediately on a satellite image of the earth, yet they shape families, communities, institutions, politics, economies, and cultures . Cain's interior jealousy eventually becomes violence (cf. Gen 4:5–8). Saul's insecurity becomes persecution of David (cf. 1 Sam 18:6–12). Absalom's (cf. 2 Sam 15:1–12) wounded ambition eventually becomes rebellion against his father . Judas (cf. Jn 12:4–6; Mt 26:14–16) allows disappointment and disordered desire to become betrayal . Conversely, Joseph transforms betrayal into forgiveness (cf. Gen 50:15–21). Ruth (cf. Ruth 1:16–17) transforms vulnerability into faithful love . Abigail transforms a dangerous domestic crisis through wisdom and peacemaking (cf. 1 Sam 25:18–35). The seriousness of the earth therefore begins in the seriousness of the heart (cf. Jer 17:9–10). St Isaac the Syrian's emphasis upon interior purification, St John Climacus's teaching concerning the gradual purification of the passions, and St Teresa of Ávila's exploration of the interior castle all point toward this hidden battlefield: the world outside cannot be transformed sustainably without allowing Christ to transform the world within us (cf. CCC 2562–2563). A person may campaign against injustice while secretly nurturing hatred. Another may defend the environment while exploiting people. Another may speak passionately about morality while remaining incapable of mercy (cf. Mt 23:23–28). The mystical soul therefore begins ecological and social conversion at the deepest level: Lord, heal the soil of my heart. (cf. Ps 51:10–12). Then the transformation moves outward—into speech, spending, work, relationships, sexuality, politics, technology, consumption, and service . Every time one human heart becomes more sincere, forgiving, disciplined, appreciative, and loving, the earth starts to mend.
The final and deepest perspective is not despair but eschatological hope. Scripture does not portray creation as ultimately abandoned to destruction; it speaks of creation groaning and awaiting its liberation and renewal in Christ . Revelation (cf. Rev 21:1–5; CCC 1042–1044) brings this hope to its fullness by presenting the ultimate future not as humanity abandoning creation, but as creation itself being renewed and brought into perfect communion with God, who dwells eternally with His people . Therefore knowing the seriousness of the earth does not mean becoming paralysed by catastrophic thinking. It means becoming spiritually awake enough to cooperate with grace . Noah builds while others continue ordinary life (cf. Gen 6:13–22). Nehemiah (cf. Neh 2:17–20; 4:1–9) rebuilds Jerusalem one broken section at a time despite ridicule and opposition . The widow of Zarephath teaches that generosity does not always begin when we possess abundance;(cf. 1 Kgs 17:8–16) sometimes faith moves us to give even from what appears insufficient . Likewise, the Good Samaritan (cf. Lk 10:30–37) shows that we are not required to solve every suffering in the world before acting. He simply encounters a wounded person, allows compassion to interrupt his journey, and refuses to walk away . These are powerful models for our own moment. A family can restore an elderly relative's dignity through regular presence. A business can choose honest wages even when cheaper exploitation is available (cf. Deut 24:14–15). A parish can create practical structures for feeding, visiting, accompanying, and protecting vulnerable people rather than limiting charity to occasional collections (cf. Acts 6:1–7). A young Catholic can use technology deliberately rather than allowing algorithms to determine attention and desire (cf. 1 Cor 6:12). A professional can refuse corruption even when integrity appears economically costly (cf. Wis 6:1–5). A Christian can reduce waste, consume responsibly, and treat creation as entrusted rather than possessed absolutely . The seriousness of the earth is therefore not a summons to fear the future but to sanctify the present. Every honest transaction, every protected child, every reconciled marriage, every rescued vulnerable person, every forgiven enemy, every responsibly cultivated field, every patiently accompanied elderly person, and every prayer offered for a suffering neighbour becomes a small participation in God's restoration of His creation (cf. Col 1:19–20). The Catechism(cf. CCC 1042–1050) teaches that Christian hope looks toward the renewal of creation and the fulfillment of God's kingdom . The Christian sees the wounded earth without denying its wounds, but sees those wounds beneath the greater horizon of Christ's victory. (cf. Jn 16:33). Thus the serious state of the earth becomes a summons: wake from indifference, repent of complicity, recover reverence, protect the vulnerable, restore relationships, receive creation gratefully, and become an instrument of healing . The world does not first need Christians who are terrified by its darkness. It needs Christians whose hearts have been so transformed by Christ that they become light within it .
Prayer
O Adorable Jesus, awaken our hearts to the suffering often concealed beneath the noise and activity of the world. Teach us to notice those who are forgotten, mistreated, lonely, wounded, and overlooked . Form us into compassionate stewards and generous servants, so that through our lives Your mercy, healing, justice, and love may reach those who need You most. Amen.
Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.
