[8/9] Novena of Grace: "Grace"

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t the heart of the Easter Vigil, as the Church breaks into song with the ancient Exsultet, we hear a line that always startles and stirs the heart: “O happy fault, O necessary sin of Adam, which gained for us so great a Redeemer!”

It’s a paradox: How can a fault—an act of disobedience—be called “happy”? And how can sin be considered “necessary”? Only when it is seen through the lens of gift (La gracia—used 41 times in the Spiritual Exercises).

Adam’s sin, tragic as it was, opened the way for God’s response—not one of revenge or punishment, but of redeeming love. It became the occasion for the coming of Christ, whose entire life, death, and resurrection culminated in the institution of the Eucharist. This is the greatest of all gifts: God giving himself entirely to us.

Fast forward to July 2024, at the closing Mass of the Tenth National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis. During the celebration, Cardinal Antonio Tagle shared a quiet but profound moment. He had asked Pope Francis what message he wanted to leave with the thousands of delegates who had gathered. The Holy Father’s reply was simple, but deeply charged: “Conversion to the Eucharist... Conversion to the Eucharist.”

What could that mean? How does one convert to the Eucharist? Cardinal Tagle offered a powerful interpretation. He suggested that we understand this conversion through the theme of gift.

"Dear friends," he said, "it occurred to me that where there is a lack or a weakening of missionary zeal, maybe it is partly due to a weakening in the appreciation of gifts and giftedness." He posed a question that gets to the heart of our modern anxieties: “Do we look at ourselves, at people, at objects, at our work, at society, at the events of daily life, and at creation within the horizon of gift? Or is this horizon disappearing?”

He went on to warn: “If our only horizon is that of achievement, success, and profit, then there is no room to see and receive gratuitous gifts.”

When we lose sight of life as a gift, we grow restless. We chase validation. We crave applause. We wear ourselves out trying to prove our worth. And slowly, we turn inward. Our world shrinks. We begin to see only burdens, only problems. We forget the beauty in people, in the everyday, even in ourselves. And those who can no longer see the gift within themselves will struggle to offer their gifts to others.

To recover this lost vision of life as gift, we can turn to the wisdom of saints and spiritual thinkers who remind us what it means to live generously and with open hands.

St Thérèse of Lisieux, in her “Little Way,” teaches us that small acts done with great love matter more than grand displays. A gift, she insists, does not need to be elaborate. It only needs to be sincere.

Søren Kierkegaard, the Danish philosopher, echoed this in Works of Love, where he writes: “The gift itself is not the important thing, but the love with which it is given.” In other words, it’s not the form or cost that gives a gift its value, but the heart that offers it.

St Ignatius of Loyola brings a sobering insight. In a letter to his Jesuit companion Fr Simão Rodrigues, he wrote: “Ingratitude is the most abominable of sins and the cause, beginning, and origin of all sins and misfortunes… a forgetting of the graces, benefits, and blessings received.”

For St Ignatius, ingratitude is not just forgetting to say “thank you”—it is spiritual blindness. It is the refusal to see love where love has been poured out. Even skipping Sunday Mass without grave reason is not simply about rule-breaking; it is a failure to respond to a gift, a turning away from the Giver.

Giving, like conversion, is dynamic. “You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving” is most commonly attributed to Amy Carmichael which tells that all is gift when you love. Even suffering can become a gift—when it is embraced and offered in love. Fr Richard Rohr OFM notes that Jesus accomplished more by accepting suffering than by taking action. The Cross, in this view, is not just an execution—it is the ultimate self-gift.

There’s a painting of Jesus smiling while hanging on the Cross. It may seem unsettling, but it reveals a spiritual secret: Jesus saw everything—even his agony—as gift. He didn’t cry out, “This is not the life I wanted!” Instead, he said, “Father, I thank you.”

This is the path of Eucharistic conversion. And so, Cardinal Tagle emphasizes: “We should note that Jesus’ description of being sent by the Father is always connected to the gift of his flesh for others. Being sent and being a gift go together... The presence of Jesus in the Eucharist is both a gift and the fulfillment of his mission.”

To be sent is to be given. To live Eucharistically is to see ourselves not as owners, but as gifts offered for the life of the world. Fr JM Manzano SJ

Grace to Beg For: "Lord, grant me the grace to see my life through the eyes of mercy—yours and mine. Help me to recognize how grace has found me, carried me, and still seeks to guide me."

Meditation: Amazing Grace, how sweet indeed—the sound that still finds me when I drift, the light that breaks through my blindness. Lord, I was lost in ways I did not see, and yet You searched for me. Let me never grow tired of praising You. Let my life be my song.

Suscipe and Anima Christi