The ‘little way’: a spirituality of the everyday
Second Ongoing Formation Meeting European Carmelite Family
24 February 2024
Giampiero Molinari, O. Carm.
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Questions for reflection - St Thérèse of Lisieux
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“It is trust and nothing but trust that must lead us to Love” (LT 197)[1] : I find it significant that the incipit of the Apostolic Exhortation published on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of Teresa’s birth was taken from the letter of 17 September 1896 to Sister Mary of the Sacred Heart and that Pope Francis comments in these terms: “These words (...) say it all, they summarise the genius of her spirituality and would be sufficient to justify the fact that she was declared a Doctor of the Church” (no. 2).
This letter, in fact, is the complement to Manuscript B (drafted in September 1896 and described as a jewel of spiritual literature[2]), which we can consider the ‘manifesto’ of the ‘little way’, that is, the path to holiness that Thérèse intuited, lived personally and then proposed to her sisters, to the two missionary brothers and to anyone who approaches her writings.
The Discovery of the ‘Little Way
As we know, the saint narrates the discovery of the “little way” in the first pages of Manuscript C (cf. Ms C 2v-3r). We can date it, with a wide margin of certainty, shortly after 14 September 1894[3] : on that date, in fact, Sister Celine entered the monastery, bringing with her a notebook in which she had written some passages from the Old Testament, including Pr 9:4 and Is 66:12-13. These two texts were to constitute the biblical basis for the intuition and consequent formulation of “a little way that is entirely new” (Ms C 2v), given the impossibility of “climbing the hard ladder of perfection” (Ms C 3r). The young Carmelite, in fact, is aware of her own fragility to the point of considering herself a “grain of sand, obscure, trampled by the feet of passers-by” (Ms C 2v). Yet her desire for holiness is not diminished: for this she must find a path that conforms to her real possibilities, a sort of ‘lift’.
It is in this context of research that Thérèse comes across the above-mentioned texts, which she reads in the Latin translation of the Vulgate: “If anyone is very small, let him come to me” (Pr 9:4). We note that, in the manuscript, it is Teresa herself who emphasises the expression “very small”: a sign that this verse shows itself to her, at this particular juncture, as the Word of God for her. We can guess this from what she writes: “I had found what I was looking for” (Ms C 3r).
Continuing on, she comes across Is 66:13, 12: “As a mother caresses her child, so will I comfort you: I will carry you in my arms and cradle you in my lap”. Here she receives the key enlightenment:
Never have more tender, more melodious words gladdened my soul! The lift that must lift me up to Heaven are your arms, O Jesus! For this I do not need to grow, rather I need to remain small, to become more and more small (Ms C 3r).
Thérèse’s joy is based on this biblical ‘confirmation’ of the merciful face of God, who is Father and Mother, who takes us into his arms. The saint manifests before these verses all her astonishment full of gratitude: “after such language, there is nothing left to do but remain silent and weep with gratitude and love!...” (Ms B 1r), she writes in Manuscript B. It is from the contemplation of such paternity/maternity of God that trust springs forth, the backbone of the ‘little way’, presented to Sister Sister Maria of the Sacred Heart precisely as ‘the abandonment of the child who falls asleep without fear in the arms of his Father’ (Ms B 1r). Consequently, no one is precluded from the path of holiness:
If all weak and imperfect souls felt what the smallest of all souls, the soul of his little Thérèse, feels, not a single one of them would despair of reaching the top of the mountain of love! (Ms B 1v).
“Remaining small” and becoming “ever smaller” means precisely this: recognising one’s own creaturely frailty, accepting it and placing oneself confidently in the merciful arms of God[4] . Thus she writes to Fr. Roulland:
My path is one of trust and love [...] I take the Holy Scripture[5] . Then everything appears luminous to me: a single word unveils infinite horizons to my soul; perfection appears easy to me; I see that it is enough to recognise one’s own nothingness and abandon oneself like a child in the arms of the good God (LT 226, 9 May 1897. Bold mine).
We are in the area of the primacy of grace, on which we dwelt in the last meeting[6] . In the Apostolic Exhortation Pope Francis makes this clear: “In the face of a Pelagian idea of holiness (...) Teresina always emphasises the primacy of God’s action, of his grace” (no. 17). It is a matter of “placing the trust of the heart outside ourselves: in the infinite mercy of a God who loves without limits and who gave everything on the Cross of Jesus” (no. 20).
The ‘Little Way’ as an Enhancement of the Everyday
In Manuscript B, Thérèse uses the comparison of the child who, to show his love, knows nothing more than to ‘throw flowers’ to describe the ‘little way’:
the little child will throw flowers, infuse the royal throne with its perfumes, sing with its silvery voice the canticle of Love! (Ms B 4r).
This symbol has nothing romantic about it, as it concretely means
let no small sacrifice escape, no look, no word, take advantage of all the smallest things and do them out of love! (Ms B 4rv).
I find this passage fundamental, as in my opinion it gives us the right perspective to understand the essence of the ‘little way’: an appreciation of daily life as the main place of sanctification. It is a matter, in fact, of offering joys and labours, in generous fidelity to the duties of one’s state, performing all actions with a big heart, even the apparently more banal and almost monotonous ones that permeate everyday life. After all, what Thérèse proposes to us is nothing other than the holiness of the everyday or ‘next door’, to use the symbol chosen by Pope Francis in his Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et exsultate on holiness in the contemporary world (nos. 6-9). For the topic at hand, I refer in particular to paragraph 7:
I like to see holiness in the patient people of God: in the parents who raise their children with so much love, in the men and women who work to bring bread home, in the sick, in the elderly religious who keep smiling. In this perseverance to go on day after day I see the holiness of the militant Church (...) the middle class of holiness (no. 7).
The valuing of the everyday already shines through in a letter to Celina in 1893. Here is an excerpt:
when I don’t feel anything, when I am incapable of praying, of practising virtue: it is then the moment to look for little occasions, little things that please [...] Jesus [...]: for example, a smile, a pleasant word when I would have wished to say nothing or to look grumpy, etc., etc. [...] I am not always faithful, but I am never discouraged; I abandon myself in the arms of Jesus (LT 143. Bold mine).
On closer inspection, it is the style that Titus Brandsma, still a novice, would later follow and recommend to others: ‘Do every day’s work to perfection, even the most mundane. It is very simple. Follow our Lord like a child. I jump after Him as best I can. I put my trust in Him and put aside all worries’[7] .
The ‘Little Way:’ A Low-Profile Spirituality?
A superficial reading of some passages might lead one to believe that the “little way” is basically a low-profile spirituality. But if we reflect on it calmly, we will realise that living the values of trust, abandonment and fidelity to daily life is anything but obvious! Rather, it is, in my opinion, a conscious choice of the “narrow gate” of which the Gospel speaks to us (cf. Mt 7:13-14). The pages of Manuscript C in which the saint reflects on charity as concrete fraternal love (cf. Ms C 11v-31r) are an eloquent testimony to this.
Secondly, trust requires an act of faith, since - the theologian Robert Cheib rightly points out - “the Other remains other and different from our projections of him. All the more so the Other who is God’[8]. Thérèse herself knows something of this at the moment in which, from Easter 1896, she finds herself experiencing the “trial against faith and hope” (cf. Ms C 4v-7v): her heart is invaded by the “thickest darkness” (cf. Ms C 5v) and the thought of the heavenly homeland is replaced by the “night of nothingness” (cf. Ms C 6v), “a wall that rises up to the heavens and covers the starry firmament” (Ms C 7v). Paradoxically, this time of trial makes Thérèse’s confidence even more granitic[9] : “I believe I have made more acts of faith from a year up to now than during my whole life” (Ms C 7r), she writes in Manuscript C, noting that since the Lord
has allowed me to suffer temptations against the faith, has greatly increased the spirit of faith in my heart (Ms C 11r. Bold mine).
In the last pages of Manuscript C, speaking directly to Jesus, the saint continues to sing of his mercy in these terms:
Your love has hindered me since childhood, it has grown with me, and now it is an abyss whose depth I cannot plumb (Ms C 35r. Bold mine).
These expressions are astonishing when one considers that they come from the lips of a 24-year-old woman who is seriously ill with tuberculosis and is experiencing the absence of God’s sensitive consolation.
The maturity that transpires from these words, I believe, is the best manifestation of the seriousness and depth of the spiritual path travelled and subsequently proposed by Thérèse: a total trust that springs from the awareness of being, in every case, in God’s hands and that translates into docility to the transforming action of his Merciful Love. The saint speaks of this clearly in the letter to Sister Mary of the Sacred Heart, already cited:
the weaker one is, without desires or virtue, the more suited one is to the operations of this Love that consumes and transforms! [...] we love our littleness, we prefer to feel nothing! Then we shall be poor in spirit and Jesus [...] will transform us into flames of love! (LT 197. Bold mine).
We are in the “heart” of the “little way” and the Offering to Merciful Love:
My very weakness gives me the audacity to offer myself as a victim to your Love, O Jesus! [...] for Love to be fully satisfied, it must lower itself, lower itself to nothingness and turn this nothingness into fire (Ms B 3v).
Concluding: Three Biblical Prototypes of the ‘Little Way’
In order to delineate the “little way” as a valorisation of the everyday, Thérèse resorts mainly to the Virgin Mary, presenting her as the one who practised the “humblest virtues” (P. 54:6). In the light of the Gospel and distancing herself from the preaching of her time (and anticipating, to some extent, the Second Vatican Council), the saint is fascinated by the ordinary life of Our Lady and contemplates her as the one who first trod the ‘common way’. This is what we read in stanza 17 of the poem Perché t’amo, Maria (May 1897):
I know that in Nazareth, Mother of full grace, / you were poor and wanted nothing more: / no miracles or ecstasies or raptures / adorn your life, Queen of Saints! / On earth the number of little ones is great / who can look at you without trembling. / The common way, incomparable Mother, / you want to take and lead them to Heaven (P 54:17).
In the penultimate folio of Manuscript C, Thérèse to some extent summarises the content of the “little way” using two biblical characters: the publican in the temple (cf. Lk 18:13) and the forgiven sinner, whom - according to the practice of the time - she identifies with the Magdalene (cf. Lk 7:36-38). Thus he writes:
It is not to the first place, but to the last that I rush. Instead of stepping forward with the Pharisee, I repeat, full of confidence, the humble prayer of the publican, but above all I imitate the behaviour of the Magdalene, her astonishing or, rather, loving audacity that captivates the heart of Jesus, seduces my own (Ms C 36v. Bold mine)[10] .
Here is the essence of the ‘little way’: trust, in the acceptance of one’s own vulnerability, and love. With these two words ends the unfinished Manuscript C, but which we could providentially read as the synthesis of the entire life of St. Therese of the Child Jesus of the Holy Face.
[1] I quote the writings of the saint using the following edition: St Teresa of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, Complete Works. Writings and Last Words, LEV-OCD, Vatican City-Rome 1997. I use the usual abbreviations: Ms B, C: Autobiographical Manuscripts B, C; LT: Letters; P: Poems.
[2] Cf. C. De Meester, "Empty-handed". The Message of Teresa of Lisieux, Queriniana, Brescia 19975 , 78.
[3] Cf. Idem, Teresa of Lisieux. Dynamica della fiducia. Genesis and structure of the "way of spiritual childhood", San Paolo, Cinisello Balsamo 1996, 75-80.
[4] Cf. Idem, "Empty-handed", 61.
[5] This is in contrast to 'certain spiritual treatises, in which perfection is presented through a thousand obstacles' (LT 226) and which end up parching Teresa's heart and tiring her mind.
[6] As we pointed out on that occasion, Teresa summarises all this in this splendid passage from Manuscript A: 'I do not rely on my own merits, since I have none, but I hope in Him who is Virtue, Holiness Himself: it is He alone who, content with my feeble efforts, will elevate me to Him and, covering me with His infinite merits, will make me holy' (Ms A 32r).
[7] Quoted in S. Scapin - B. Secondin, Titus Brandsma. Maestro di umanità, martire della libertà, Edizioni Paoline, Milan 1990, 23.
[8] R. Cheaib, The Agapic and Nuptial Hermeneutics of the Night of Thérèse of Lisieux in Teresianum 73 (2022/2), 554.
[9] Ibid, 546.
[10] Teresa takes up the figure of Magdalene in her letter to the seminarian Bellière, dated 21 June 1897 (the same month in which Manuscript C was written): "When I see Magdalene advancing in the midst of the numerous guests, bathing with her tears the feet of her adored Master, whom she touches for the first time, I feel that her heart has understood the abysses of love and mercy of the Heart of Jesus and that, however much of a sinner she may be, this Heart of love is not only willing to forgive her, but also to lavish on her the benefits of its divine intimacy, to raise her up to the highest peaks of contemplation" (LT 247).
