Divine Appeal Reflection - 144
Today, consider in Divine Appeal 144: "Pray a great deal for the souls unknown to you... Everyday I call you to pray through events."
One of the most hidden sufferings in the Heart of Our Adorable Jesus is that countless souls pass through life carrying burdens that remain unseen by the world and unremembered in prayer. While many are surrounded by family, friends, and communities, others walk through decisive spiritual battles in profound loneliness. Christ, who knows every heart and every hidden wound , sees the souls that no one else notices. He sees the businessman sitting alone in a hotel room contemplating suicide, the teenager quietly being drawn into addiction through influences no parent fully understands, the widow eating another meal in silence after the loss of her spouse, the prisoner consumed by resentment, the priest carrying discouragement behind a faithful exterior, the frightened mother considering abortion, and the dying patient whose bedside remains empty . Jesus sees them all simultaneously . This appeal unveils a divine perspective that transcends human relationships. Christ does not ask merely for prayer for those we know but for those who have never entered our lives. This is the mystery of His universal love. St. Thérèse of Lisieux offered sacrifices for an unknown condemned criminal and later discovered signs of his conversion before execution. Abraham interceded for Sodom despite having no personal connection to most of its inhabitants (cf. Gen 18:22–33). The Catechism teaches that all the faithful form one communion in Christ (cf. CCC 946–953). Therefore, no soul is truly a stranger. Every Christian is mysteriously connected to every other person through the redeeming Blood of Christ. Jesus invites us to expand our hearts beyond natural affection until they begin to resemble His own Heart, which ceaselessly carries the concerns of every soul from the beginning to the end of time.
The appeal becomes even more astonishing when Jesus says, “Everyday I call you to pray through events.” Instead of receiving events spiritually, the majority of people spend their life responding to them emotionally. Instinctively, they evaluate situations based on their immediate emotions—pleasure, disappointment, success, fear, frustration, or loss. A promotion brings excitement, criticism causes discouragement, unexpected suffering produces anxiety, and uncertainty generates restlessness. Yet the contemplative soul gradually discovers that events are rarely mere events. Beneath visible circumstances lies a deeper invitation from God, who works through all things for the sanctification of His children . This spiritual vision transforms the way reality is perceived. What appears as an interruption may be an invitation to patience (cf. Jas 1:2–4). A disappointment may become a summons to deeper trust . A closed door may redirect the soul toward a greater good not yet visible (cf. Acts 16:6–10). Even suffering, though never desired for its own sake, can become a place of profound encounter with Christ and participation in His redemptive love (cf. Rom 5:3–5; Col 1:24; CCC 618). Consider how frequently daily circumstances pass through our hands unnoticed. A news report about a war may not simply be information; it may be Christ asking for prayers for a frightened child hiding in a basement somewhere. A funeral announcement may be an invitation to pray for grieving relatives and for the deceased soul standing before divine judgment (cf. Heb 9:27). Hearing a siren in the distance may be Heaven's request for intercession for someone whose eternity could be approaching. St. Faustina frequently understood ordinary encounters as opportunities for hidden apostolic prayer. The Blessed Virgin (cf. Lk 2:19, 51) treasured events in silence, contemplating their spiritual meaning before responding . The Catechism (cf. CCC 302–314) teaches that divine providence mysteriously guides creation toward its ultimate purpose . Therefore, events are never spiritually neutral. The soul that is focused on God starts to see that Christ communicates through situations as well as Scripture, sacraments, and prayer. What appears accidental often becomes an invitation into His own concern for humanity. The contemplative Christian learns to ask, not merely “Why did this happen?” but “For whom am I being asked to pray?”
A profoundly mystical dimension of this appeal is the realization that God sometimes permits souls to encounter small fragments of the burdens carried by others so that they may secretly participate in His work of redemption (cf. Gal 6:2; Col 1:24; CCC 618). As the soul becomes more united to Christ, it gradually becomes more sensitive to the movements of His Heart, which eternally intercedes before the Father for the salvation of the world . In this mystery, prayer is no longer limited to personal needs; it becomes participation in the compassionate love of Christ Himself . Many people occasionally experience unexplained heaviness, sudden urges to pray, unusual interior sorrow, or a persistent concern that seems disconnected from their own circumstances. Discernment is always necessary, since not every interior movement comes from God . Yet the great spiritual writers recognized that the Holy Spirit can quietly invite souls into hidden intercession for needs known fully only to God (cf. Rom 8:26–27). St. Gemma Galgani often found herself drawn into intense prayer for persons she had never met, while St. Maria Faustina Kowalska experienced urgent impulses to pray, later discovering that souls were in particular need of mercy . Sacred Scripture reveals similar mysteries of hidden cooperation with divine providence. Abraham's servant was guided toward Rebekah through ordinary events that concealed extraordinary divine action (cf. Gen 24:12–27). Ananias received an unexpected call to seek out Saul, (cf. Acts 9:10–17) becoming a crucial instrument in a moment that would shape the future of the Church . Neither fully understood the significance of their obedience when they acted. Most Christians assume that prayer begins with their own intentions. Yet at a deeper level, prayer often begins in the Heart of Jesus before it reaches the human heart . A sudden remembrance of someone, a passing image that returns repeatedly, an unexpected concern, a news story that refuses to leave the mind, or a burden carried without obvious explanation may sometimes be an invitation into Christ's own intercessory love . The contemplative soul gradually learns not to dismiss these movements too quickly. Instead of asking, "Why am I thinking about this?" it begins asking, "Jesus, who are You inviting me to carry before the Father?" In this way, the Christian becomes a living instrument through which the hidden desires, mercies, and saving concerns of the Sacred Heart quietly flow into the world (cf. Jn 15:5, 9–13; CCC 2565).
At its highest mystical summit, this appeal reveals that Jesus desires to transform the Christian into a spiritual echo of His own Heart. The Eternal Son constantly stands before the Father carrying every soul, every need, every wound, and every possibility of grace (cf. Heb 7:25; Jn 17:9–26). The more deeply a person enters contemplation, the less prayer remains centered on personal needs, anxieties, and concerns, and the more it becomes participation in the universal love of Christ, who desires the salvation of all . As the soul draws nearer to the Heart of Jesus, its horizons expand beyond itself, gradually embracing the joys, wounds, struggles, and eternal destiny of others . This helps explain why the greatest saints often carried immense spiritual burdens for souls they would never meet on earth. St. Catherine of Siena wept and offered sacrifices for sinners unknown to her because her heart had become united to Christ's thirst for souls (cf. Jn 19:28; Ezek 22:30). St. Silouan the Athonite taught that the closer a soul comes to God, the more it grieves, intercedes, and prays for the entire world, reflecting the compassion of Christ who wept over Jerusalem and carried humanity within His Heart . St. Thérèse of Lisieux, though enclosed within a cloister, spiritually embraced missionaries, unbelievers, sinners, priests, and distant nations, demonstrating that love united to God transcends every geographical boundary (cf. Col 3:14; CCC 953). In contemplation, the soul gradually ceases asking merely, “Lord, help me,” and begins praying, “Lord, save them,” entering the priestly and redemptive love of Christ Himself . Such souls begin to share something of Christ's own thirst for humanity . They understand that history itself is a vast battlefield of grace where countless eternal destinies are being decided every moment. Consequently, every event becomes spiritually charged. A drought becomes prayer for farmers. A public scandal becomes prayer for repentance. A natural disaster becomes prayer for the dying and grieving. A chance encounter becomes prayer for generations yet unborn. The soul no longer moves through life observing events from the outside but enters them through love. This is the hidden apostolate of the contemplative: to stand with Christ at the heart of the world, silently receiving its joys and sorrows and returning them to the Father as ceaseless intercession. In this way, the Christian gradually becomes what St. Elizabeth of the Trinity called a living praise of glory, allowing Christ's own prayer to continue within the depths of the soul until eternity.
Prayer
O Adorable Jesus, enlarge our hearts to love the souls we do not know. Teach us to recognize Your call hidden within daily events. May every joy, sorrow, interruption, and encounter become prayer united to Your Heart. Make us faithful intercessors, participating in Your saving love for countless souls. Amen.
Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.