Thérèse of Lisieux (10)
Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta chose the name of “Teresa” because she was inspired by St. Therese of Lisieux’s capability to do ordinary things with extraordinary love. Both of these women are beautiful examples about how we are used as instruments of God’s love.
Mother Teresa was born in Albania in 1910. She felt her calling to religious life at the age of 18. She joined the Loreto Sisters of Dublin and spent her novitiate years teaching in India. It is there that she felt a deeper call to form her own religious order. She spent more than a year lobbying for permission to start her order.
She formed the Missionaries of Charity, they went into the slums of India and helped the poorest of poor. These sisters established hospices, orphanages, and homes for those with disabilities. Mother Teresa wanted to serve the unwanted, unnoticed, and unloved.
Mother Teresa and her fellow Sisters of Charity made major strides to help those in need. The order now has a presence in more than 100 countries. Mother Teresa even received the Nobel Peace Prize for her work. In 1997, at age 87, Mother Teresa entered into Heaven.
This woman of faith is to be canonized as a saint sometime in 2016.
Mother Teresa believed that we must love and care for everyone, especially those who are hardest to love. She tried to see the Lord’s face in everyone she served. She believed doing any action with love was fulfilling God’s will.
St. Therese of Lisieux lived a secluded life as a cloistered sister in France. She entered the Carmelite religious order at the age of 15 after begging the pope for permission.
St. Therese believed that her actions were let God’s love work through her, no matter how big or small. This philosophy is known as the Little Way and aided St. Therese in becoming a Doctor of the Church.
Therese’s greatest desire was to serve God as a missionary in what is now Vietnam. Only her poor health prevented her from fulfilling this dream. She may have lived an unremarkable life but she lived with missionary zeal by performing all actions, great or small, steeped in God’s love. St. Therese and her Little Way is what led her to be the co-patroness of the Missions.
These two women let God use them as an instruments of his love. They both have shared how He used them:
“I am a little pencil in the hand of God who is sending a love letter to the world.”
-Mother Teresa
“I’m a little brush that Jesus has chosen in order to paint His own image in the souls entrusted to my care.” –St. Therese of Lisieux
Therese and Teresa also stated that if they did an action without love it did not mean a thing:
“In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.”
–Mother Teresa
“Without love, deeds, even the most brilliant count as nothing.”
–St. Therese of Lisieux
Mother Teresa and St. Therese both were given the vocation to love with our God’s love:
“Our vocation is the love of Jesus.”
– Mother Teresa
“My vocation is love.”
–St. Therese of Lisieux
Both of these women are excellent examples of how we can be used to serve our Lord. Through them we can see how to practice St. Therese’s Little Way and be used to love even more than can be imagined.
from http://blog.littleflower.org
Joel Giallanza, C.S.C.
Wisdom for the Spiritual Journey
We know of her because she appears in a few scenes from the Gospels: the Christmas stories, a wedding, the crucifixion, the post-Resurrection community in Jerusalem, and Pentecost. She is often in the background, quietly present but off centre stage. From the perspective of these ancient records she says little, almost nothing when compared to others who hold significant places in Christian history. Still, we are drawn to her. Over the centuries she has been known by many names and identified by a multitude of titles. And the few words accredited to her are replete with wisdom that has been and can yet be probed ever deeper. The example and experience of this woman, Mary of Nazareth, are beacons along the pathways of the spiritual journey, guiding and nurturing, encouraging and supporting. These present reflections will draw upon the practical wisdom of five statements from her journey, to learn from Mary in her own words, to recognize her as an experienced traveller, to welcome her as a graced companion on our own spiritual journey.
“How Can This Be?”
Woman who Wonders, Woman of the Mystery
The Annunciation is the scene of Mary’s first statement. As St. Luke relates the story in his Gospel, “the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man named Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary” (1:26-27). During this encounter, Gabriel informs Mary that she has “found favor with God,” she will conceive and bear a son, and name him Jesus. Given her situation, Mary’s question is not at all surprising. She does not dismiss Gabriel’s news, but accepts it as an invitation to ask “How can this be?” (1:34).
We meet Mary in this scene as a woman who wonders, not in the sense of simple reflection on the situation, but of puzzling astonishment. It is the experience of hearing that the impossible will come to pass. Rather than running from that experience, Mary is intrigued and willing to hear more from the messenger. She could have discredited this encounter as nonsensical. Instead, she wonders, embodying that quality which enables children to accept what adults will declare impossible or a waste of time. Rather than passing judgment on what she hears, Mary is ready to listen. Wonder opens her to the infinite possibilities of God’s grace, enabling her to face the unknown, the unfamiliar, the unexpected.
Wonder characterizes Mary as a woman of the mystery. In the Annunciation, Mary stands at the very threshold of the mystery of the Incarnation, of God becoming like us in everything. By its very definition, a mystery is a truth which goes beyond human knowledge and understanding; it must be accepted on the speaker’s authority A mystery is explored not with analysis, but with wonder. Mary’s ability to wonder does not question or doubt God’s power, but opens her to a God who cannot be classified and catalogued by human standards and categories, a God who can do the impossible. Nor is her ability to wonder naiveté; she watches for the ways and works of God which extend beyond the limits of human calculations, expectations, and preferences.
Mary wonders before the mystery which Gabriel has opened to her. She does not assume or judge or calculate or worry about consequences and implications. She listens and waits, unencumbered by assumptions, judgments, calculations and worries. Mary does not know what will follow her conversation with Gabriel; she stands before the mystery to see what will unfold.
The Gospel accounts of the Annunciation do not tell us what Mary was doing immediately before her encounter with Gabriel. She may have been busy with her daily responsibilities or praying or planning her approaching marriage to Joseph. Even if we did know what she was doing, that would not tell us as much about her as does her response. She is open to the mystery of God.
Wondering at the Mystery
Wonder must accompany us from the outset of our spiritual journey, for inevitably we will encounter the mystery of God. That encounter may not be as dramatic as Mary’s conversation with Gabriel for the mystery of God can touch us quietly, almost unnoticeably. The way we respond to the mystery is more significant than how it comes. We can analyze and judge, to control what we do not understand. Or we can wonder and thus embrace freedom from the need to control. Without that freedom we diminish our sensitivity to God’s ways precisely because God does not always work within our guidelines and assumptions.
Wonder enables us to watch beyond what our eyes see and to listen beyond what our ears hear. If we see and hear only what is familiar and acceptable, we will miss the simple and surprising ways in which the mystery of God can be present and active. Wonder also enables us to face the unknown or the apparently impossible. Wonder is not quick to insist it knows all the ways and means by which God’s self-revelation can take place. It is free to be in relationship with a God who is completely free, who loves lavishly and gives gifts extravagantly Wonder enables us to be people of the mystery.
Jesus presents an interesting challenge: “I assure you that unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the Reign of God” (Mt. 18:3). Children are capable of wonder, of being surprised, of delighting in the unexpected. Could it be that part of responding to this challenge is the simple ability to wonder, before we ask our questions and do our analyses, before we formulate our answers and design our responses. In our prayer, in our relationships with God and others, do we function with a recipe? Do our assumptions and images of prayer, God and others determine the answers, even before all the questions are asked? And if the answers do not fit those assumptions and images, do we dismiss them? Wonder tends not to ask, “What if I’m wrong?” but, “What if there is more than I presently assume or know?”, “What if there is another way?”
Mary had the ability to live with wonder and thus God was able to work wonders in her life. It will be no different for us if we are people of the mystery. We may find that we are willing to ask, “How can this be?” before we conclude “This simply isn’t possible!”
“Let It Be Done To Me As You Have Said.”
Woman who Believes, Woman of the Word
Once again the scene is Luke’s account of the Annunciation. After Mary asks about the message communicated to her, Gabriel provides further information, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God” (1:35). Gabriel continues to explain that Elizabeth, an older relative of Mary’s, will also have a son and concludes, “Nothing will be impossible with God” (1:37). Mary’s response is eloquently simple: “Let it be done to me as you have said” (1:38). Her willingness to wonder enabled her to hear all that Gabriel had to say; that same willingness is the very foundation for her faith.
Mary is a woman who believes. Her faith rests firmly on the promise of God. If Mary had understood and knew exactly all that would unfold in her life, faith would not have been necessary. But, she believes without knowing, she accepts God’s promise. Mary could have said, “No, this is too much; I can’t deal with this. How would I explain this?” Gabriel neither pressures Mary to accept what is being communicated nor offers a convenient solution for whatever difficulties might emerge. God’s, will is announced; Mary is free to respond.
By her faith, Mary is a woman of the Word. As St. Paul reminds us, “Faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17). In accepting the news which Gabriel brings to her, Mary not only hears God’s word, she becomes the means through which the Word of God will share the human condition. More than a hearer and doer of the Word, Mary gives birth to the Word in fulfilment of God’s promise.
Mary’s faith invites whatever God asks of her. It is unlikely that the Annunciation was the first time she was open to what God had asked. Her faith is a matter of the heart, a desire in life; and her heart and desire are set on God. Her response, “Let it be done to me as you have said,” is an act of courage, a decision based on God’s promise. Mary of Nazareth is the means by which God reveals the mystery of the Incarnation. With all this, could it not be said that Mary is one to whom God can say, “Thank you?”
Believing in the Word
In our spiritual journey, the challenge is to pray and to live “Let it be done to me as you have said.” That might be easier to do if God would tell us in advance the implications and consequences of our statement; we would like to have a preview of coming attractions before we make a commitment. While that preview would be convenient, it would do away with the need for faith and diminish our dependence on God. As we learn in the Letter to the Hebrews, “Faith is to be sure of things we hope for, to be convinced of things we do not see” (11:1). We hope for the reign of God promised by Jesus, yet we do not always see evidence of God’s presence and activity.
St. Paul tells us in his second letter to the Corinthians, “We walk by faith, not by sight” (5:7). We do not know where our relationship with God will lead us, sometimes all we see ahead is darkness. Faith is light, but it does not describe our destination. Faith calls us to trust that God will remain present and faithful in everything, marking our lives with confidence and courage. It provides confidence for moving forward in life, knowing that God is present and active. Faith does not need verifiable proofs, only a heart open to God. Faith also gives us the courage to live without fear. It does not need a definite map of the future, only a willingness to accept the challenges which confront us in our everyday tasks and responsibilities.
Before Jesus is born, Mary prays, “Let it be done to me as you have said;” and before Jesus dies, he prays, “Not my will, but yours be done.” Both Mary and Jesus present the model of responding to God’s will: acceptance in faith. To be people who believe, we must be people of the Word. To hear what God says to us, we must listen within our daily lives; it is there that God’s self-revelation and will are discovered. Thus, our daily lives are the school of holiness. Mary believed, and God fulfilled the promises made to her. It will be no differen for us if we believe God’s Word however and whenever it comes. Without faith, we hear God’s Word and say, “Impossible!”, “Unreasonable!” With faith, we hear God’s Word and can say, “Of course!”
“From Now On All People Will Call Me Blessed.”
Woman who Adapts, Woman for the World
After the Annunciation, St. Luke tells us, “Mary got ready and hurried off to a town in the hill country of Judea. She went into Zechariah’s house and greeted Elizabeth” (1:39-40). In response to Elizabeth’s greeting, Mary praises God and proclaims, “From now on all people will call me blessed because of the great things the Mighty God has done for me” (1:48-49). From the perspective of twenty centuries since Mary made this statement, it has been proven true many times over. Mary is blessed in the eyes of people, she is for all people.
Throughout the history of the church, various aspects of Mary’s life and character have been celebrated, and various private and public devotions have developed within Christianity. Further, Mary is known and honoured under various titles throughout the world, depending upon the particular people and culture from which a title emerged. Even a brief sample is extensive: Our Lady of Lourdes, Fatima, Prompt Succor, Guadalupe, Mount Carmel, Sorrows, Perpetual Help, the Rosary, the Snow, La Salette, Czestochowa, Holy Cross, Good Counsel, the Miraculous Medal.
Mary is a woman who adapts, “all people will call me blessed.” She has had appeal to people of different cultures and races and languages and even religions. Mary has adapted to a wide range of needs, becoming one of the people. It is not surprising that devotion to her has remained strong throughout Christian history; her many names and faces and titles reflect her accessibility. Christians through the ages and in every culture have experienced easy access to her, describing her as understanding and listening and comforting. No doubt Mary will take on yet other titles that reflect the people’s need to relate to her because she belongs to the world.
Adapting for the World
Mary can be called blessed around the world because she looks familiar to every culture and society and race and nationality. Yet, Mary’s mission and message remain firmly focused on the Lord. The challenge for us is to do the same: to be open and to accept every culture and race, even within our own society and nation and neighbourhood. Jesus' command is exact: “Do for others just what you want them to do for you” (Lk. 6:31). Jesus never promises that we will always like what we have to do for others; sometimes it may be difficult, unpleasant, or inconvenient. Jesus addresses the way we desire to be treated when we need something done for us. But he also highlights the implications of our treatment of others: “Whatever you did to one of the least of these, you did to me... Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me” (Mt. 25:40,45).
To the degree that we can adapt, we become people for the world, we bring Jesus to the world. Our adaptability will be most evident in our daily lives and work. It is relatively easy to be sensitive to the plight of other people and cultures as we see their struggle on television or read it in the newspapers. The true challenge of adaptability is to have that same sensitivity toward the people we encounter every day. Adapting and adjusting to family members friends, co-workers provide us with ample opportunities to confirm or compromise the integrity of our spiritual journey. The prejudices with which we can classify all members of a particular group or age or race, or the many “isms” with which we can categorize people and strip them of individuality and even dignity, diminish our capacity for sensitivity and adaptability.
Mary had the unique privilege to become the Mother of God, to give birth to Jesus, to be the means by which God became part of our world. Our lives must give birth to Jesus’ presence in our world; our actions must continue his mission. We must live the example of Jesus among others. Then we will be people who adapt, people for the world. Then we, too, can be called blessed.
“Don’t You Know I Have Been Looking For You?”
Woman who Pioneers, Woman of the Quest
The gospels do not tell us very much about the span of years between Jesus’ birth and the beginning of his public ministry. Within those years there would be valuable information about the family life of Mary, Joseph and Jesus. At least we can assume they observed the rituals and festivals in which other practicing Jews participated. And we can assume they were involved in whatever activities and responsibilities were necessary for maintaining family life in Nazareth.
St. Luke gives us one glimpse into those years, a story from the time when Jesus was twelve years old. Joseph, Mary, and Jesus went every year to Jerusalem for the celebration of Passover; this time, Luke tells us, “When the festival was over, they started back home, but the boy Jesus stayed in Jerusalem” (2:43). After Mary and Joseph discovered his absence on the next day, they returned to Jerusalem. On the third day, they find him in the Temple, conversing with the teachers. Mary asks him directly, “Don’t you know your father and I have been looking for you?” (2:48).
Mary is a woman who pioneers, she is the first to set out on a journey to find Jesus. As a true pioneer, she forges the way that others may follow; the meaning and direction of her life are shaped by her relationship with Jesus. Even if we did not have this story of a twelve-year old boy fascinated by the big city and the Temple and forgetting to stay with his family, we would still know Mary as one who remains focused on Jesus. We see her at the crib in Bethlehem and we see her at the cross in Jerusalem; these two scenes give us ample material to realize that Mary is grounded in Jesus.
Mary is generally silent when we meet her in the Gospels; the story of finding Jesus in the Temple is an exception. Still, her silence is not passive observation, but attentive involvement. Mary does not merely watch Jesus’ life, she participates in it. In the Temple scene we have a glimpse of the everyday humanity of a mother and son: a young boy’s curiosity about the city, and a parent’s anxiety about separation from her child.
From the crib in Bethlehem to the cross in Jerusalem, Mary is truly a woman of the quest to be one with God through Jesus. When Mary agreed to be part of God’s plan of salvation, she set out on a journey; she took up a quest to complete God’s will in whatever would be asked of her. No doubt, there were moments of joy and pain, confidence and uncertainty, clarity and confusion. These are part of the spiritual journey because they are part of the human journey.
What distinguishes Mary’s quest is fidelity: God’s fidelity to her and her fidelity to God. It is this faithful exchange that empowers her to pioneer the work of our salvation. Fidelity is particularly important because her life is guided, not by a preview, but by a promise made to her at the Annunciation and a pledge of fidelity. The promise: “Nothing will be impossible with God” (Lk. 1:37); her pledge: “Let it be done to me” (Lk. 1:38). Mary’s question to Jesus in the Temple expresses the frustration and concern of a mother after searching for her son. Her pioneering spirit remained faithful to this three-day quest for Jesus; she would remain faithful throughout life.
Pioneering the Quest
The spiritual journey takes us on a quest. Like Mary on the road from Jerusalem after the festival, we can assume that we will always sense Jesus near us. When we experience an absence in our lives, a distance from Jesus, we take notice. We look around in familiar places, but the sense of absence may persist. Then we stand at a crossroads. Do we ignore the experience or do we take up a quest? Mary’s example challenges us to enter the quest. To look for Jesus and even to find him, we will have to go beyond the boundaries of a familiar and secure environment, and actually search. Those boundaries may include current forms of prayer or devotions within our spiritual lives. We do not thereby abandon prayer or diminish the value of our spiritual practices, but discover other ways of expressing our relationship with God.
Mary could have spent days searching within the caravan, a familiar and secure setting. That search would have moved her farther from Jesus. By departing from the caravan, Mary moves into the unknown, not knowing where to look. Our experience may be the same when we leave the “caravan” of our familiar prayers and devotions, our usual way of doing things. We may not know where to look for Jesus; the important point is our motivation, what is in our hearts. And our hearts will guide us, “for where your treasure is, there your heart will also be” (Lk. 12:34).
“Don’t you know I have been looking for you?” More than a question, this becomes our experience of the spiritual journey, reflecting our fidelity to the Lord. Fidelity makes us pioneers; every step involves trust. We become pioneers and people of the quest to the degree that we remain sensitive to God’s presence and activity in our lives. That sensitivity urges us to remain faithful, to follow God’s ways wherever they may lead. When we sense a diminishment of God’s presence and activity, we must examine that experience with faith and determine what supports will assist us in continuing the journey.
There will be times of joy and new life, as well as of pain and the cross; both are inevitable since they reflect the example of Jesus. Fidelity does not make us insensitive to the joy or the pain, but it does assist us in avoiding their potential to distract and to detour. Fidelity is the only baggage we need for the quest. Fidelity is more than what we do; it is what we become. Echoing through our life is the simple question, “Don’t you know I have been looking for you?”
“Do Whatever He Tells You.”
Woman who Educates, Woman of the Way
Jesus’ first miracle, or sign, as recorded in St. John’s Gospel takes place while he, his mother, and his disciples are attending a wedding in Cana. The story is a simple one. The wine ran out. Mary must have been aware of the situation because, as John relates, “the mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine”’ (2:3). Jesus says that this is none of his concern. John then tells us, “Jesus’ mother said to the servers, ‘Do whatever he tells you”’ (2:5). The servers do just that, and the remainder of the story is well known.
It is interesting to note that Mary does not respond directly to Jesus’ remark, “My hour has not yet come” (2:4). Jesus had indicated that the situation with the wine did not concern him, or Mary for that matter, and that his public work had not yet begun. Mary’s response remains centred around the practical: wine is needed, she knows her son can do something about it, so she points the way, she directs others to Jesus.
Mary is a woman who educates. The verb educate means to lead out or to guide along the way. Educators in ancient Athens and Rome were those who led children by the hand and guided them to school, reviewing lessons along the way. Mary leads and guides us to Jesus because he can do what is necessary; she places us in direct relationship with Jesus. Mary neither tells the servers what to say nor does she speak for them, she shows the way. Our relationship with her, whatever its form, will inevitably point to Jesus. As educator, Mary clears a path, she leads and guides.
At the wedding in Cana of Galilee, and even today, Mary is a woman of the way to Jesus. This is her primary role for the faith community The great liturgical feasts of Mary reflect some aspect of her relationship with Jesus:
Immaculate Conception, Birth of Mary, Presentation, Annunciation, Visitation, Our Lady of Sorrows, Assumption, Queenship of Mary, Mother of God. Even many Marian devotions focus our attention on the Lord. The Rosary is one example: twelve of the fifteen mysteries focus directly on some aspect of Jesus’ life, death, resurrection, ascension. Mary’s challenge today is as it was at the wedding feast, “Do whatever he tells you.” We must listen to Jesus’ word, discern what it teaches us, then do it.
Educating about the Way
Mary educates us about the life of Jesus, leading us to him, encouraging us to do whatever Jesus tells us. Hers is a straight-forward mission: to bring Jesus into the world, then bring the world to Jesus. This is the model for our own mission, our example must bring Jesus into the world and then lead others to him. Following Jesus involves more than what we do, it is what we choose to be and eventually become. St. Paul instructs us to “put on the new self, which is being renewed, for knowledge, in the image of its Creator” (Col. 3:1O). Becoming a new person is a requirement not a suggestion. Jesus’ presence and activity are made evident through actions, not merely by words.
Mary’s teaching stands firm: “Do whatever he tells you.” We may assume that we could not teach this because we do not live it perfectly ourselves. If we take this assumption to its logical conclusion, then the Gospel never would have been preached in two thousand years because Jesus entrusted his message to sinful followers. Human sinfulness and weakness are no reasons for not preaching the Gospel. Even when we fail, we must strive to demonstrate Jesus example. We must not let weakness or failure or even sin discourage us, lead us to despair, and tempt us to abandon the spiritual journey. The grace of God can transform even
weakness and failure and sin. We educate others about the way of following Jesus by our own efforts to follow him.
Continuing the Journey
We set out on our spiritual journey with the ability to wonder. Even before faith, comes wonder. We hear of God’s infinite love for us, of Jesus’ life and example, all for our salvation; we wonder at the mystery of it all and ask, How can this be? This question is already the beginning of faith. We are drawn to believe, to trust the one who has captivated us with wonder. As we believe so we are drawn yet closer, to hear God’s Word more clearly. And we dare to pray in faith, Let it be done to me as you have said. This prayer invites God’s Word into our lives. We bear the responsibility to make space for that Word. We must adapt. As we adapt, we become like Jesus, open to the world around us, discovering God in all situations. Because God has blessed us, because God has worked wonders in us, it is possible that From now on all people will call me blessed. That openness and discovery urge us to seek God always. As pioneers, our quest is for new life, a life of union with God. With integrity, our lives stand as a question before God, Don't you know I have been looking for you? With fidelity, our lives confirm the constancy of our quest. Along the pathways of the spiritual journey we meet others and we share our experiences. Our sharing points always to Jesus, communicating only one message, Do whatever he tells you. This message becomes the invitation for yet others to touch the example of Jesus and to wonder before the mystery of God. And so our journey continues, and so their own journey begins.
St. Thérèse
1.
Oh! how I love Thee, Jesus! my soul aspires to Thee —
And yet for one day only my simple prayer I pray!
Come reign within my heart, smile tenderly on me,
To-day, dear Lord, to-day.
2.
But if I dare take thought of what the morrow brings —
That fills my fickle heart with dreary, dull dismay;
I crave, indeed, my God, trials and sufferings,
But only for to-day!
3.
O sweetest Star of heaven! O Virgin, spotless, blest,
Shining with Jesus’ light, guiding to Him my way!
O Mother! ‘neath thy veil let my tired spirit rest,
For this brief passing day!
4.
Soon shall I fly afar among the holy choirs,
Then shall be mine the joy that never knows decay;
And then my lips shall sing, to heaven’s angelic lyres,
The eternal, glad To-day!
June, 1894.
Rev. John F. Russell, O.Carm
What is the meaning of "the little way" of St. Therese? It is an image that tries to capture her understanding of being a disciple of Jesus Christ, of seeking holiness of life in the ordinary and the everyday. St. Therese based her little way on two fundamental convictions: 1. God shows love by mercy and forgiveness and 2. She could not be perfect in following the Lord. St. Therese believed that the people of her time lived in too great fear of Gods judgment. The fear was stifling and did not allow people to experience the freedom of the children of God. St. Therese knew from her life that God is merciful love; many scripture passages in the Old and New Testaments bore out that truth. She loved the maternal images for God in the Old Testament and the love of God for us in Jesus Christ. In fact, St. Therese once wrote that she could not understand how anyone could be afraid of a God who became a child. She also knew that she would never be perfect. Therefore, she went to God as a child approaches a parentwith open arms and a profound trust.
St. Therese translated "the little way" in terms of a commitment to the tasks and to the people we meet in our everyday lives. She took her assignments in the convent of Lisieux as ways of manifesting her love for God and for others. She worked as a sacristan by taking care of the altar and the chapel; she served in the refectory and in the laundry room; she wrote plays for the entertainment of the community. Above all, she tried to show a love for all the nuns in the community. She played no favorites; she gave of herself even to the difficult members. Her life sounds so routine and ordinary, but it was steeped in a loving commitment that knew no breakdown. It is called a little way precisely by being simple, direct, yet calling for amazing fortitude and commitment.
In living out her life of faith she sensed that everything that she was able to accomplish came from a generous love of God in her life. She was convinced that at the end of her life she would go to God with empty hands. Why? Because all was accomplished in union with God.
Catholics and other Christians have been attracted to St. Thereses style. Her little way seems to put holiness of life within the reach of ordinary people. Live out your days with confidence in Gods love for you. Recognize that each day is a gift in which your life can make a difference by the way you choose to live it. Put hope in a future in which god will be all and love will consume your spirit. Choose life, not the darkness of pettiness and greed. St. Therese knew the difference love makes by allowing love to be the statement she made each day of her life.
Rev. John F. Russell, O.Carm.
Seton Hall University
Most Rev. Kilian Healy, O.Carm.
From the dawn of reason the heart of St. Thérèse was raised to God. As she grew in years she was blessed with insight into his merciful love. Her desire was to always do his will. At the reception of her first holy communion she told our Lord that she is giving herself to him forever.
After her entrance to Carmel at the age of fifteen she set full sail on her pursuit of holiness. She came to believe that God had bent down, lifted her up and embraced her in his loving arms (Story of a Soul, translated by John Clarke, O.C.D. 199; hereafter abbreviated as S).
In February 1895, two and one half years before her death she composed one of her most beautiful poems “Living on Love” (Poetry of Saint Thérèse, trans. by Donald Kenny, O.C.D., PN 17; hereafter PN). It was the fruit of an inspiration on an evening spent in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament during the Forty Hours devotion. In this poem she sings of the merciful love of God and of her desire to be aflame with love for him. She longs to live on love alone and to die of love.
“Loving you, Jesus, is such fruitful loss!
All my perfumes are yours forever.
I want to sing on leaving this world,
I’m dying of love!” (Ibid., St. 19).
A few months later on June 11, 1895 together with her sister Céline she made her Act of Oblation to the Merciful Love of God. She offered herself as a Victim, a holocaust of love. “Consume your holocaust with the fire of your Divine Love” (S 181).
As her spiritual life developed she was ravished with love and cried out: “O Jesus my love..., my vocation at last I found it....My vocation is Love” (S 194).
As we contemplate the heart of Thérèse aflame with love of God we ask: What were some of the devotions that served Thérèse on her journey to love? Throughout her life she had many devotions and shared in many spiritual exercises. We think of her devotion to the Holy Face and her love of the Divine Office. In this article we would like to focus our attention on three devotions that played a special role in her surrender to love, and that can become a vital influence in our spiritual development: the Bible, the Eucharist, and the Blessed Virgin.
The Bible
Today reading and study of the Bible is a daily practice in convents. But in the nineteenth century this was not so. Thérèse came to Bible reading gradually, not at home but in the convent. We are told she did not have a copy of the complete Bible; she used Céline’s notebook which contained several passages from the Old Testament. Céline also gave her a copy of the Gospel and the Letters of St. Paul bound together. This little book she always carried over her heart. It is preserved today among the relics in the convent of Lisieux. Finally, we should remember that the nuns recited the Divine Office every day and among other Scripture passages it contained the Psalms, which gave her daily food for thought and prayer.
It was, then, the Vulgate form of the text that Thérèse knew. Had she been a priest, she said, she would have learned Greek and Hebrew in order to read the Bible in its original languages.
One book that gave her great nourishment was the Song of Songs, and her understanding of it came from the Catholic tradition, proposed by Origin (d. 254) the most influential commentator in the Christian community. For the Christian the Song refers to the love of Christ and the Church, Christ and the individual soul.
Thérèse received many spiritual insights from the Song, quoting it frequently especially in her letters to Céline. To one of her novices, Marie of the Trinity, she confided:
“If I had the time I would like to comment on the Canticle of Canticles (the Song); in this book I have discovered such profound things about the union of the soul with the Beloved” (quoted by Guy Gaucher, Story of a Life, 191).
In her Story she tells us of the spiritual enrichment gained from reading the Word of God. “Ah! how many lights have I not drawn from the works of our holy Father, St. John of the Cross! At the ages of seventeen and eighteen I had no other spiritual nourishment; later on, however, all books left me in aridity and I’m still in that state. If I open a book composed by a spiritual author (even the most beautiful, the most touching book), I feel my heart contract immediately and I read without understanding, so to speak. Or if I do understand, my mind comes to a standstill without the capacity of meditating. In this helplessness, Holy Scripture and the Imitation come to my aid; in them I discover a solid and very pure nourishment. But it is especially the Gospels which sustain me during my hours of prayer, for in them I find what is necessary for my poor little soul. I am constantly discovering in them new lights, hidden and mysterious meanings” (S 179).
We recall that in Carmel the sisters had two hours of silent prayer, one in the morning and the other in the evening. The daily reading and meditating on the Gospels led Thérèse to come to an understanding of God’s desire to flood the world with his merciful love, and prompted her to respond to his love. “Oh how sweet the way of love! How I want to apply myself to do the will of God always with the greatest self-surrender” (S 181).
Listening to Thérèse we can ask ourselves: What place do the Holy Scriptures hold in our life? Does God speak to us? Do we listen? To understand love, we must begin to love.
The Eucharist
Thérèse’s growth in understanding the merciful love of God and responding with love was also advanced by her love of the Holy Eucharist From her childhood Thérèse enjoyed going to Mass. She loved Sundays and Holy days. She doesn’t offer any special insights into the mystery of the Holy Sacrifice but she does have much to teach us about holy communion. She underwent a long and thorough preparation [or her first holy communion which she received at the age of eleven.
Her description of her first encounter with her Eucharistic King is edifying: “Afi! how sweet was that first kiss of Jesus! It was a kiss of love; I felt that I was loved, and I said: ‘I love You, and I give myself to you forever!’ There were no demands made, no struggles, no sacrifices; for a long time now. Jesus and poor little Thérèse looked at and understood each other, That day, it was no longer simply a look, it was a fusion; they were no longer two, Thérèse had vanished as a drop of water is lost in he immensity of the ocean. Jesus alone remained. e was the Master, the King. Had not Thérèse asked Him to take away her liberty, for her liberty frightened her? She felt so feeble and fragile that she wanted to be united forever to the divine Strength” (S 77).
Would this beautiful experience be repeated each time Thérèse received holy communion? No. Seldom would there be consolation and joy. Her communions would he acts of faith. She would think of the love of Jesus who longed to give himself to us in the host. She would recall his humility in condescending to come to us; his humility in coming hidden in the host. Her reaction was to try to please him who was so humble and loving.
Often she would seek Jesus in the tabernacle to keep him company. Daily reception of the Eucharist was not permitted in Thérèse’s time; a custom that displeased her greatly. She promised that once in heaven she would seek a remedy. In the meantime she would encourage frequent communion. In a letter to her cousin Marie Guérin, who would enter Carmel in 1895 as Marie of the Eucharist, Thérèse encouraged her to banish the scruples that kept her from receiving the Eucharist. “Dear little sister, receive communion often, very often. That is the only remedy if you want to be healed and Jesus hasn’t placed this attraction in your soul for nothing” (General Correspondence, v.1, translated by John Clarke, O.C.D., 569).
Pope Pius X in 1905 granted the whole church permission to receive daily communion; he was greatly pleased that he had done this after reading this letter of Thérèse. He said: “we must hurry this cause!” (Thérèse’s beatification) (Ibid.)
One night during her final illness Thérèse wrote a poem in preparation for holy communion: “You Who Know My Extreme Littleness” (PS 8, p. 233). Sister Thérèse of the Eucharist sang this song before Thérèse received holy communion on July 16, 1897. This was her last poem, a song of love, a cry of the heart to die of love. “Come into my heart, O white Host that I love. Come into my heart I long for you” (Ibid.).
During the last few months of her life Thérèse was so emaciated, so weak that she could no longer hold food in her stomach. Consequently, her last holy communion was on August 19, 1897, six weeks before her death. There is no indication that the last kiss of Jesus was similar to the first. This time there was no joy. She was immersed in the dark night of faith. After communion shed4ing tears she said to Mother Agnes, “I’m perhaps losing my wits. Oh! if they only knew the weakness I’m experiencing. Last night I couldn’t take anymore; I begged the Blessed Virgin to hold my head in her hands so that I could take my sufferings” (Last Conversations, translated by John Clarke, O.C.D., 54; hereafter LC).
Yes, the infirmary was her Calvary, her sick bed the Cross. With Jesus she was a victim of love.
As we meditate on Thérèse’s love of the Eucharist (she often thought how wonderful it would be to be a priest and offer the Eucharist) we ask: What place does the Mass and holy communion bold in our life? Do we share in the daily celebration of the Eucharist? Do we realize that Jesus in the host is manifesting his love for us, that he is asking to be loved? How do we respond to Jesus on days there is no consolation?
The Blessed Virgin
Along with the Bible and the Holy Eucharist, devotion to the Blessed Virgin accompanied Thérèse on her journey of surrender to love.
In her childhood Thérèse learned to honour Mary. At the age of three she prayed to Mary in words taught to her by her mother. When she made her first confession at the age of six her confessor encouraged her to practice devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and Thérèse promised herself that she would redouble her tenderness to Mary. When she was ten years old she came down with a mysterious nervous sickness. While lying sick in bed, she tells us, the Blessed Virgin with a ravishing smile appeared to her, and she was instantly cured. The following year, at age eleven in the afternoon of the day of her first holy communion Thérèse was chosen in the name of her companions to make the act of consecration to Mary. She tells us: “I put all my heart into speaking to her, into consecrating myself to her as a child throwing itself into the arms of its mother, asking her to watch over her. It seems to me the Blessed Virgin must have looked upon her little flower and smiled at her, for wasn’t it she who cured her with a visible smile? Had she not placed in the heart of her little flower her Jesus, the Flower of the Fields and the Lily of the valley?” (S 78).
In 1887 Thérèse accompanied her father and Céline on a pilgrimage to Rome. Along the journey they visited shrines of our Lady, and she felt that she was rewarded with great graces at Our Lady of Victories in Paris and Loreto in Italy. However, in Rome she was disappointed with her audience with Pope Leo XIII. Although he treated her with kindness, he did not grant her request to enter Carmel at age fifteen, leaving the decision to the will of God. Downcast she returned home, but her spirits were soon revived when the bishop granted her desire, a favour she believed was a gift of the Blessed Virgin.
Once she entered Carmel she took comfort in wearing our Lady’s mantle, and the Brown Scapular, our Lady’s gift, which for her was a sign of predestination. She also carried our Lady’s rosary, was faithful to the daily recitation, but, as she confesses, it was not without great difficulty.
In December 1894 she received an order from her superior, Mother Agnes (Pauline), to write her childhood memories. Always obedient Thérèse tells us: “Before taking up my pen, I knelt before the statue of Mary (the one that had given so many proofs of the maternal preferences of heaven’s Queen to our family), and I begged her to guide my hand that it trace no line displeasing to her” (S 13). Throughout the story of her life Our Lady figures prominently. But this is true in her poems, letters, religious plays and last conversations in which Mary appears as loving Mother and model.
As we reflect on the central role of Mary in the life of Thérèse we ask: Is there any writing in which she expounds her teaching on the Blessed Virgin? Fortunately, there is. To Céline she once confided: “I have always dreamed of saying in song to the Blessed Virgin everything I think about her” (S 217).
On May 1897, a few months before her death, she fulfilled this desire with a masterful poem, the favourite of many devotees, “Why I Love You, Mary” (PN 54, p. 215). In twenty five stanzas with thoughts drawn from the story of Mary in the Gospels she sings of her love for the Mother of Jesus and our mother.
It is not our intention to offer a commentary of the poem (there are some beautiful ones) but rather to offer a few thoughts that shed light on her profound devotion to Mary. In her poem she is guided by the portrayal of Mary in the Gospels. She tells us that Mary is not only the Mother of Jesus, our Saviour; she is our spiritual mother, But Mary is also our model. She led an ordinary life, similar to ours, a life of faith, hope, charity, obedience, humility, patience. It was a life of intense suffering. She experienced the pain of poverty, the cold, the heat, even exile. She endured the dark night of faith especially when she stood beneath the Cross and offered Jesus to appease the Father’s justice.
In her meditations on the Gospels Thérèse found in Mary not only a loving mother, hut a mother who had led an ordinary life, like our own, no ecstasies or miracles. She found a mother she could admire and imitate, a mother who could lead her to Jesus. In her joy she cried out: “You teach me to sing divine praises, to glory in Jesus my Saviour” (St. 7). This poem, Thérèse affirms, contains all that she would preach about Mary were she a priest.
During her final days in the midst of her trial of faith and intense physical suffering, Thérèse frequently prayed to the Virgin Mary. At times she was heard repeating the closing words of her beautiful poem to Mary: “You who came to smile at me in the morning of my life, Come smile at me again.... Mother.... it’s evening now” (St. 25, p. 220).
As the shadows of evening fell on September 30, 1897, and after two days of agony Thérèse, while gazing at her crucifix, died. Her last words: “My God, I love you” (LC 206).
She had reached the goal of her life, eternal love. But on her journey, often fought with darkness and suffering she found guidance, comfort and great hope in the Bible, the Eucharist, the Blessed Virgin Mary. She points to us the way to love. From heaven she calls: “Come, follow my way.”
Fr. John Russell, O.Carm.
GOSPEL
JESUS SAID TO HIS DISCIPLES:
The Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised."
Then he said to all, "If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save ir. What profit is there for one to gain the whole world yet lose or forfeit himself?' LUKE 9: 22-25
ST. THERESE OF LISIEUX
On New Year's day, 1888, Jesus again gave me a present of his cross, but this time I was alone in carrying it. It was all the more painful as I did not understand it. A letter from Mother Marie de Gonzague informed me that the Bishop's answer had arrived December 28, feast of the Holy Innocents, but that she bad not told me as it was decided that my entrance would be delayed until after Lent. I was unable to hold back my tears at the thought of such a long wait I really want to believe I must have appeared unreasonable in not accepting my three months exile joyfielly, but I also believe that, without its appearing so, this trial was very great and made me grow very much in abandonment and in the other virtue? (Story of a Soul, 143).
REFLECTION
The cross enters everyone's life and we notice in today's Gospel reading that the cross is a daily event. For St. Therese the cross was experienced in the delay she had to endure before her entrance into the Carmel of Lisieux. She would encounter more crosses in her brief life, e.g., physical illness and temptations regarding the existence of heaven.
People meet the cross in disappointments with children, in job loss and financial crises. Also the cross comes in the form of a migraine headache, in risky surgery, in stress, in long waiting lines, in dryness in prayer, in rejection in relationships. The cross may be brief and transitory or permanent. It may be simply an annoy¬ance or a dark period in one's life which threatens ones overall mental health. In the Christian tradition we walk in the footsteps of Christ, who can take our suffering and turn it into a saving grace for others. We may find that our desire to unite with Christ and his suffering provides us with the ballast of peace and hope. For St. Therese suffering provided the joy of knowing Christ Jesus in profound love.
PRAYER.
Gracious and loving God, your presence among us invites courage and fidelity in adversity. Suffering can cause feelings of anger and pain as well as a heart that may question your goodness. Take our lives and transform our hearts to cruse in your love and your presence within us. Like St. Therese may we obtain the grace of abandonment to your providential love. We make our prayer through Christ our Lord. Amen.
by Father John Welch, O.Carm.
She has been called a "Vatican II in miniature." Young Therese Martin as a Carmelite nun anticipated many of the contributions of that great pastoral council. The Fathers of the Council frequently invoked her name both in formal and informal sessions. And today her contributions are recognized in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.
Saint Therese of Lisieux, “the Little Flower,” died in 1897 at the age of 24. Her spirituality was rooted in the gospels, long before Catholics were turning to scripture for nourishment. She preferred to think of the Blessed Virgin not as a Queen but as a young peasant woman facing the daily tasks common to all. Therese reinvigorated our belief in the "communion of saints." She trusted that her deceased family members still cared and heard her prayers. She herself promised not to forget those of us who remained on earth after her death.
Best of all, Saint Therese of Lisieux restored our confidence in a God who is loving and merciful. In a time when religion focused on sin and God's punishment, Therese relied on a God whose justice would take into account our poverty, and whose love would never turn away. Her little way is not a lessening of desire nor a retreat from life. It is a way of proceeding with absolute trust in God's merciful love. Therese declared, "Everything is grace!"
When Therese, under instructions from her prioress, wrote her autobiography, Story of A Soul, she said she was "singing of the mercies of the Lord." Our ordinary lives are filled with daily miracles, the mercies of the Lord. And she quoted Saint Paul: "So then there is question not of him who wills nor of him who runs but of God showing mercy' (Rom 9,16). Her emphasis was not on what she had done in her lifetime, but on what God's presence and love had done in and through her.
Thomas Merton attributed his vocation to her inspiration. Dorothy Day wrote a biography of Saint Therese. Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta said she chose her name, not from the great Saint Teresa of Avila, but from little Therese. In 1997 Pope John Paul II declared her "Doctor of the Universal Church," one of only 33 individuals to receive that recognition, and the third woman, after Saint Teresa of Avila and Saint Catherine of Sienna. The Pope referred to Therese as one of the great masters of the spiritual life in our time."
Confidence and love
The Little Flower was convinced that God is not looking for people to punish. God is looking for people to love. Therese said, "How few there are who are willing to open their lives to that love." God's love is a transforming love. God wants to love people into life, into freedom, into a profound friendship.
When her sister Marie complained that she herself had none of the great desires to be holy that Therese had, Therese said it is not our virtues or our great desires God loves it is our "littleness." She wrote to Marie: The more one is weak, without desires and without virtues, the more one is suited for the operation of God's consuming and transforming love." We do not earn God's love; it is freely given. Therese is expressing a true, biblical faith when she said to Marie, It is confidence and nothing but confidence that must lead us to love."
Saint Therese's short life had its share of sorrows, including several final months of intense physical suffering, and challenges to her faith. Anticipating her death, Therese wrote to a missionary priest, When I shall have arrived at port, I will teach you how to travel...on the stormy sea of the world; with the surrender and love of a child who knows God loves us and cannot leave us alone in the hour of danger... it is the way of simple love and confidence."
Bishop Patrick Ahern, an ardent devotee of Saint Therese, described her spirituality: "The Little Way finds joy in the present moment. In being pleased to be the person you are, whoever you are. It is a school of self-acceptance, which goes beyond accepting who you are to wanting to be who you are. It is a way of coming to terms with life, not as it might be but as it is."
As she promised, the Little Flower went to God "With empty hands," knowing that would be enough. Her Feast is celebrated October 1.
Pope Benedict XVI
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
Today I would like to talk to you about St Thérèse of Lisieux, Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face, who lived in this world for only 24 years, at the end of the 19th century, leading a very simple and hidden life but who, after her death and the publication of her writings, became one of the best-known and best-loved saints. “Little Thérèse” has never stopped helping the simplest souls, the little, the poor and the suffering who pray to her. However, she has also illumined the whole Church with her profound spiritual doctrine to the point that Venerable Pope John Paul II chose, in 1997, to give her the title “Doctor of the Church”, in addition to that of Patroness of Missions, which Pius XI had already attributed to her in 1939. My beloved Predecessor described her as an “expert in the scientia amoris” (Novo Millennio Ineunte, n. 42). Thérèse expressed this science, in which she saw the whole truth of the faith shine out in love, mainly in the story of her life, published a year after her death with the title The Story of a Soul. The book immediately met with enormous success, it was translated into many languages and disseminated throughout the world.
I would like to invite you to rediscover this small-great treasure, this luminous comment on the Gospel lived to the full! The Story of a Soul, in fact, is a marvellous story of Love, told with such authenticity, simplicity and freshness that the reader cannot but be fascinated by it! But what was this Love that filled Thérèse’s whole life, from childhood to death? Dear friends, this Love has a Face, it has a Name, it is Jesus! The Saint speaks continuously of Jesus. Let us therefore review the important stages of her life, to enter into the heart of her teaching.
Thérèse was born on 2 January 1873 in Alençon, a city in Normandy, in France. She was the last daughter of Louis and Zélie Martin, a married couple and exemplary parents, who were beatified together on 19 October 2008. They had nine children, four of whom died at a tender age. Five daughters were left, who all became religious. Thérèse, at the age of four, was deeply upset by the death of her mother (Ms A 13r). Her father then moved with his daughters to the town of Lisieux, where the Saint was to spend her whole life. Later Thérèse, affected by a serious nervous disorder, was healed by a divine grace which she herself described as the “smile of Our Lady” (ibid., 29v-30v). She then received her First Communion, which was an intense experience (ibid., 35r), and made Jesus in the Eucharist the centre of her life.
The “Grace of Christmas” of 1886 marked the important turning-point, which she called her “complete conversion” (ibid., 44v-45r). In fact she recovered totally, from her childhood hyper-sensitivity and began a “to run as a giant”. At the age of 14, Thérèse became ever closer, with great faith, to the Crucified Jesus. She took to heart the apparently desperate case of a criminal sentenced to death who was impenitent. “I wanted at all costs to prevent him from going to hell”, the Saint wrote, convinced that her prayers would put him in touch with the redeeming Blood of Jesus. It was her first and fundamental experience of spiritual motherhood: “I had such great trust in the Infinite Mercy of Jesus”, she wrote. Together with Mary Most Holy, young Thérèse loved, believed and hoped with “a mother’s heart” (cf. Pr 6/ior).
In November 1887, Thérèse went on pilgrimage to Rome with her father and her sister Céline (ibid., 55v-67r). The culminating moment for her was the Audience with Pope Leo XIII, whom she asked for permission to enter the Carmel of Lisieux when she was only just 15. A year later her wish was granted. She became a Carmelite, “to save souls and to pray for priests” (ibid., 69v).
At the same time, her father began to suffer from a painful and humiliating mental illness. It caused Thérèse great suffering which led her to contemplation of the Face of Jesus in his Passion (ibid., 71rc). Thus, her name as a religious — Sr Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face — expresses the programme of her whole life in communion with the central Mysteries of the Incarnation and the Redemption. Her religious profession, on the Feast of the Nativity of Mary, 8 September 1890, was a true spiritual espousal in evangelical “littleness”, characterized by the symbol of the flower: “It was the Nativity of Mary. What a beautiful feast on which to become the Spouse of Jesus! It was the little new-born Holy Virgin who presented her little Flower to the little Jesus” (ibid., 77r).
For Thérèse, being a religious meant being a bride of Jesus and a mother of souls (cf. Ms B, 2v). On the same day, the Saint wrote a prayer which expressed the entire orientation of her life: she asked Jesus for the gift of his infinite Love, to be the smallest, and above all she asked for the salvation of all human being: “That no soul may be damned today” (Pr 2).
Of great importance is her Offering to Merciful Love, made on the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity in 1895 (Ms A, 83v-84r; Pr 6). It was an offering that Thérèse immediately shared with her sisters, since she was already acting novice mistress.
Ten years after the “Grace of Christmas” in 1896, came the “Grace of Easter”, which opened the last period of Thérèse’s life with the beginning of her passion in profound union with the Passion of Jesus. It was the passion of her body, with the illness that led to her death through great suffering, but it was especially the passion of the soul, with a very painful trial of faith (Ms C, 4v-7v). With Mary beside the Cross of Jesus, Thérèse then lived the most heroic faith, as a light in the darkness that invaded her soul. The Carmelite was aware that she was living this great trial for the salvation of all the atheists of the modern world, whom she called “brothers”.
She then lived fraternal love even more intensely (8r-33v): for the sisters of her community, for her two spiritual missionary brothers, for the priests and for all people, especially the most distant. She truly became a “universal sister”! Her lovable, smiling charity was the expression of the profound joy whose secret she reveals: “Jesus, my joy is loving you” (P 45/7). In this context of suffering, living the greatest love in the smallest things of daily life, the Saint brought to fulfilment her vocation to be Love in the heart of the Church (cf. Ms B, 3v).
Thérèse died on the evening of 30 September 1897, saying the simple words, “My God, I love you!”, looking at the Crucifix she held tightly in her hands. These last words of the Saint are the key to her whole doctrine, to her interpretation of the Gospel the act of love, expressed in her last breath was as it were the continuous breathing of her soul, the beating of her heart. The simple words “Jesus I love you”, are at the heart of all her writings. The act of love for Jesus immersed her in the Most Holy Trinity. She wrote: “Ah, you know, Divine Jesus I love you / The spirit of Love enflames me with his fire, / It is in loving you that I attract the Father” (P 17/2).
Dear friends, we too, with St Thérèse of the Child Jesus must be able to repeat to the Lord every day that we want to live of love for him and for others, to learn at the school of the saints to love authentically and totally. Thérèse is one of the “little” ones of the Gospel who let themselves be led by God to the depths of his Mystery. A guide for all, especially those who, in the People of God, carry out their ministry as theologians. With humility and charity, faith and hope, Thérèse continually entered the heart of Sacred Scripture which contains the Mystery of Christ. And this interpretation of the Bible, nourished by the science of love, is not in opposition to academic knowledge. The science of the saints, in fact, of which she herself speaks on the last page of her The Story of a Soul, is the loftiest science.
“All the saints have understood and in a special way perhaps those who fill the universe with the radiance of the evangelical doctrine. Was it not from prayer that St Paul, St Augustine, St John of the Cross, St Thomas Aquinas, Francis, Dominic, and so many other friends of God drew that wonderful science which has enthralled the loftiest minds?” (cf. Ms C 36r). Inseparable from the Gospel, for Thérèse the Eucharist was the sacrament of Divine Love that stoops to the extreme to raise us to him. In her last Letter, on an image that represents Jesus the Child in the consecrated Host, the Saint wrote these simple words: “I cannot fear a God who made himself so small for me! […] I love him! In fact, he is nothing but Love and Mercy!” (LT 266).
In the Gospel Thérèse discovered above all the Mercy of Jesus, to the point that she said: “To me, He has given his Infinite Mercy, and it is in this ineffable mirror that I contemplate his other divine attributes. Therein all appear to me radiant with Love. His Justice, even more perhaps than the rest, seems to me to be clothed with Love” (Ms A, 84r).
In these words she expresses herself in the last lines of The Story of a Soul: “I have only to open the Holy Gospels and at once I breathe the perfume of Jesus’ life, and then I know which way to run; and it is not to the first place, but to the last, that I hasten…. I feel that even had I on my conscience every crime one could commit… my heart broken with sorrow, I would throw myself into the arms of my Saviour Jesus, because I know that he loves the Prodigal Son” who returns to him. (Ms C, 36v-37r).
“Trust and Love” are therefore the final point of the account of her life, two words, like beacons, that illumined the whole of her journey to holiness, to be able to guide others on the same “little way of trust and love”, of spiritual childhood (cf. Ms C, 2v-3r; LT 226).
Trust, like that of the child who abandons himself in God’s hands, inseparable from the strong, radical commitment of true love, which is the total gift of self for ever, as the Saint says, contemplating Mary: “Loving is giving all, and giving oneself” (Why I love thee, Mary, P 54/22). Thus Thérèse points out to us all that Christian life consists in living to the full the grace of Baptism in the total gift of self to the Love of the Father, in order to live like Christ, in the fire of the Holy Spirit, his same love for all the others.
Libreria Editrice Vaticana
M. Rev. Kilian Healy, O.Carm.
From the dawn of reason the heart of St. Thérèse was raised to God. As she grew in years she was blessed with insight into his merciful love. Her desire was to always do his will. At the reception of her first holy communion she told our Lord that she is giving herself to him forever.
After her entrance to Carmel at the age of fifteen she set full sail on her pursuit of holiness. She came to believe that God had bent down, lifted her up and embraced her in his loving arms (Story of a Soul, translated by John Clarke, O.C.D. 199; hereafter abbreviated as S).
In February 1895, two and one half years before her death she composed one of her most beautiful poems “Living on Love” (Poetry of Saint Thérèse, trans. by Donald Kenny, O.C.D., PN 17; hereafter PN). It was the fruit of an inspiration on an evening spent in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament during the Forty Hours devotion. In this poem she sings of the merciful love of God and of her desire to be aflame with love for him. She longs to live on love alone and to die of love.
“Loving you, Jesus, is such fruitful loss!
All my perfumes are yours forever.
I want to sing on leaving this world,
I’m dying of love!” (Ibid., St. 19).
A few months later on June 11, 1895 together with her sister Céline she made her Act of Oblation to the Merciful Love of God. She offered herself as a Victim, a holocaust of love. “Consume your holocaust with the fire of your Divine Love” (S 181).
As her spiritual life developed she was ravished with love and cried out: “O Jesus my love..., my vocation at last I found it....My vocation is Love” (S 194).
As we contemplate the heart of Thérèse aflame with love of God we ask: What were some of the devotions that served Thérèse on her journey to love? Throughout her life she had many devotions and shared in many spiritual exercises. We think of her devotion to the Holy Face and her love of the Divine Office. In this article we would like to focus our attention on three devotions that played a special role in her surrender to love, and that can become a vital influence in our spiritual development: the Bible, the Eucharist, and the Blessed virgin.
The Bible
Today reading and study of the Bible is a daily practice in convents. But in the nineteenth century this was not so. Thérèse came to Bible reading gradually, not at home but in the convent. We are told she did not have a copy of the complete Bible; she used Céline’s notebook which contained several passages from the Old Testament. Céline also gave her a copy of the Gospel and the Letters of St. Paul bound together. This little book she always carried over her heart. It is preserved today among the relics in the convent of Lisieux. Finally, we should remember that the nuns recited the Divine Office every day and among other Scripture passages it contained the Psalms, which gave her daily food for thought and prayer.
It was, then, the Vulgate form of the text that Thérèse knew. Had she been a priest, she said, she would have learned Greek and Hebrew in order to read the Bible in its original languages.
One book that gave her great nourishment was the Song of Songs, and her understanding of it came from the Catholic tradition, proposed by Origin (d. 254) the most influential commentator in the Christian community. For the Christian the Song refers to the love of Christ and the Church, Christ and the individual soul.
Thérèse received many spiritual insights from the Song, quoting it frequently especially in her letters to Céline. To one of her novices, Marie of the Trinity, she confided:
“If I had the time I would like to comment on the Canticle of Canticles (the Song); in this book I have discovered such profound things about the union of the soul with the Beloved” (quoted by Guy Gaucher, Story of a Life, 191).
In her Story she tells us of the spiritual enrichment gained from reading the Word of God. “Ah! how many lights have I not drawn from the works of our holy Father, St. John of the Cross! At the ages of seventeen and eighteen I had no other spiritual nourishment; later on, however, all books left me in aridity and I’m still in that state. If I open a book composed by a spiritual author (even the most beautiful, the most touching book), I feel my heart contract immediately and I read without understanding, so to speak. Or if I do understand, my mind comes to a standstill without the capacity of meditating. In this helplessness, Holy Scripture and the Imitation come to my aid; in them I discover a solid and very pure nourishment. But it is especially the Gospels which sustain me during my hours of prayer, for in them I find what is necessary for my poor little soul. I am constantly discovering in them new lights, hidden and mysterious meanings” (S 179).
We recall that in Carmel the sisters had two hours of silent prayer, one in the morning and the other in the evening. The daily reading and meditating on the Gospels led Thérèse to come to an understanding of God’s desire to flood the world with his merciful love, and prompted her to respond to his love. “Oh how sweet the way of love! How I want to apply myself to do the will of God always with the greatest self-surrender” (S 181).
Listening to Thérèse we can ask ourselves: What place do the Holy Scriptures hold in our life? Does God speak to us? Do we listen? To understand love, we must begin to love.
The Eucharist
Thérèse’s growth in understanding the merciful love of God and responding with love was also advanced by her love of the Holy Eucharist From her childhood Thérèse enjoyed going to Mass. She loved Sundays and Holy days. She doesn’t offer any special insights into the mystery of the Holy Sacrifice but she does have much to teach us about holy communion. She underwent a long and thorough preparation [or her first holy communion which she received at the age of eleven.
Her description of her first encounter with her Eucharistic King is edifying: “Afi! how sweet was that first kiss of Jesus! It was a kiss of love; I felt that I was loved, and I said: ‘I love You, and I give myself to you forever!’ There were no demands made, no struggles, no sacrifices; for a long time now. Jesus and poor little Thérèse looked at and understood each other, That day, it was no longer simply a look, it was a fusion; they were no longer two, Thérèse had vanished as a drop of water is lost in he immensity of the ocean. Jesus alone remained. e was the Master, the King. Had not Thérèse asked Him to take away her liberty, for her liberty frightened her? She felt so feeble and fragile that she wanted to be united forever to the divine Strength” (S 77).
Would this beautiful experience be repeated each time Thérèse received holy communion? No. Seldom would there be consolation and joy. Her communions would he acts of faith. She would think of the love of Jesus who longed to give himself to us in the host. She would recall his humility in condescending to come to us; his humility in coming hidden in the host. Her reaction was to try to please him who was so humble and loving.
Often she would seek Jesus in the tabernacle to keep him company. Daily reception of the Eucharist was not permitted in Thérèse’s time; a custom that displeased her greatly. She promised that once in heaven she would seek a remedy. In the meantime she would encourage frequent communion. In a letter to her cousin Marie Guérin, who would enter Carmel in 1895 as Marie of the Eucharist, Thérèse encouraged her to banish the scruples that kept her from receiving the Eucharist. “Dear little sister, receive communion often, very often. That is the only remedy if you want to be healed and Jesus hasn’t placed this attraction in your soul for nothing” (General Correspondence, v.1, translated by John Clarke, O.C.D., 569).
Pope Pius X in 1905 granted the whole church permission to receive daily communion; he was greatly pleased that he had done this after reading this letter of Thérèse. He said: “we must hurry this cause!” (Thérèse’s beatification) (Ibid.)
One night during her final illness Thérèse wrote a poem in preparation for holy communion: “You Who Know My Extreme Littleness” (PS 8, p. 233). Sister Thérèse of the Eucharist sang this song before Thérèse received holy communion on July 16, 1897. This was her last poem, a song of love, a cry of the heart to die of love. “Come into my heart, O white Host that I love. Come into my heart I long for you” (Ibid.).
During the last few months of her life Thérèse was so emaciated, so weak that she could no longer hold food in her stomach. Consequently, her last holy communion was on August 19, 1897, six weeks before her death. There is no indication that the last kiss of Jesus was similar to the first. This time there was no joy. She was immersed in the dark night of faith. After communion shed4ing tears she said to Mother Agnes, “I’m perhaps losing my wits. Oh! if they only knew the weakness I’m experiencing. Last night I couldn’t take anymore; I begged the Blessed Virgin to hold my head in her hands so that I could take my sufferings” (Last Conversations, translated by John Clarke, O.C.D., 54; hereafter LC).
Yes, the infirmary was her Calvary, her sick bed the Cross. With Jesus she was a victim of love.
As we meditate on Thérèse’s love of the Eucharist (she often thought how wonderful it would be to be a priest and offer the Eucharist) we ask: What place does the Mass and holy communion bold in our life? Do we share in the daily celebration of the Eucharist? Do we realize that Jesus in the host is manifesting his love for us, that he is asking to be loved? How do we respond to Jesus on days there is no consolation?
The Blessed Virgin
Along with the Bible and the Holy Eucharist, devotion to the Blessed Virgin accompanied Thérèse on her journey of surrender to love.
In her childhood Thérèse learned to honour Mary. At the age of three she prayed to Mary in words taught to her by her mother. When she made her first confession at the age of six her confessor encouraged her to practice devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and Thérèse promised herself that she would redouble her tenderness to Mary. When she was ten years old she came down with a mysterious nervous sickness. While lying sick in bed, she tells us, the Blessed Virgin with a ravishing smile appeared to her, and she was instantly cured. The following year, at age eleven in the afternoon of the day of her first holy communion Thérèse was chosen in the name of her companions to make the act of consecration to Mary. She tells us: “I put all my heart into speaking to her, into consecrating myself to her as a child throwing itself into the arms of its mother, asking her to watch over her. It seems to me the Blessed Virgin must have looked upon her little flower and smiled at her, for wasn’t it she who cured her with a visible smile? Had she not placed in the heart of her little flower her Jesus, the Flower of the Fields and the Lily of the valley?” (S 78).
In 1887 Thérèse accompanied her father and Céline on a pilgrimage to Rome. Along the journey they visited shrines of our Lady, and she felt that she was rewarded with great graces at Our Lady of Victories in Paris and Loreto in Italy. However, in Rome she was disappointed with her audience with Pope Leo XIII. Although he treated her with kindness, he did not grant her request to enter Carmel at age fifteen, leaving the decision to the will of God. Downcast she returned home, but her spirits were soon revived when the bishop granted her desire, a favour she believed was a gift of the Blessed Virgin.
Once she entered Carmel she took comfort in wearing our Lady’s mantle, and the Brown Scapular, our Lady’s gift, which for her was a sign of predestination. She also carried our Lady’s rosary, was faithful to the daily recitation, but, as she confesses, it was not without great difficulty.
In December 1894 she received an order from her superior, Mother Agnes (Pauline), to write her childhood memories. Always obedient Thérèse tells us: “Before taking up my pen, I knelt before the statue of Mary (the one that had given so many proofs of the maternal preferences of heaven’s Queen to our family), and I begged her to guide my hand that it trace no line displeasing to her” (S 13). Throughout the story of her life Our Lady figures prominently. But this is true in her poems, letters, religious plays and last conversations in which Mary appears as loving Mother and model.
As we reflect on the central role of Mary in the life of Thérèse we ask: Is there any writing in which she expounds her teaching on the Blessed Virgin? Fortunately, there is. To Céline she once confided: “I have always dreamed of saying in song to the Blessed Virgin everything I think about her” (S 217).
On May 1897, a few months before her death, she fulfilled this desire with a masterful poem, the favourite of many devotees, “Why I Love You, Mary” (PN 54, p. 215). In twenty five stanzas with thoughts drawn from the story of Mary in the Gospels she sings of her love for the Mother of Jesus and our mother.
It is not our intention to offer a commentary of the poem (there are some beautiful ones) but rather to offer a few thoughts that shed light on her profound devotion to Mary. In her poem she is guided by the portrayal of Mary in the Gospels. She tells us that Mary is not only the Mother of Jesus, our Saviour; she is our spiritual mother, But Mary is also our model. She led an ordinary life, similar to ours, a life of faith, hope, charity, obedience, humility, patience. It was a life of intense suffering. She experienced the pain of poverty, the cold, the heat, even exile. She endured the dark night of faith especially when she stood beneath the Cross and offered Jesus to appease the Father’s justice.
In her meditations on the Gospels Thérèse found in Mary not only a loving mother, hut a mother who had led an ordinary life, like our own, no ecstasies or miracles. She found a mother she could admire and imitate, a mother who could lead her to Jesus. In her joy she cried out: “You teach me to sing divine praises, to glory in Jesus my Saviour” (St. 7). This poem, Thérèse affirms, contains all that she would preach about Mary were she a priest.
During her final days in the midst of her trial of faith and intense physical suffering, Thérèse frequently prayed to the Virgin Mary. At times she was heard repeating the closing words of her beautiful poem to Mary: “You who came to smile at me in the morning of my life, Come smile at me again.... Mother.... it’s evening now” (St. 25, p. 220).
As the shadows of evening fell on September 30, 1897, and after two days of agony Thérèse, while gazing at her crucifix, died. Her last words:
“My God, I love you” (LC 206).
She had reached the goal of her life, eternal love. But on her journey, often fought with darkness and suffering she found guidance, comfort and great hope in the Bible, the Eucharist, the Blessed Virgin Mary. She points to us the way to love. From heaven she calls: “Come, follow my way.”
admin
A collection of quotes by St. Therese of Lesieux. Quotes from St Therese Story of a Soul and her letters.
“A word or a smile is often enough to put fresh life in a despondent soul.”
“And it is the Lord, it is Jesus, Who is my judge. Therefore I will try always to think leniently of others, that He may judge me leniently, or rather not at all, since He says:
"Judge not, and ye shall not be judged.”
“Do you realize
that Jesus is there
in the tabernacle
expressly for you-
for you alone? He
burns with the
desire to come into
your heart… don’t
listen to the demon,
laugh at him, and
go without fear to
receive the Jesus of
peace and love…”
“Each prayer is more beautiful than the others. I cannot recite them all and not knowing which to choose, I do like children who do not know how to read, I say very simply to God what I wish to say, without composing beautiful sentences, and He always understands me. For me, prayer is an aspiration of the heart, it is a simple glance directed to heaven, it is something great, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites me to Jesus.”
“For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy.”
“Holiness consists simply in doing God's will, and being just what God wants us to be.”
“I am convinced that one should tell one's spiritual director if one has a great desire for Communion, for Our Lord does not come from Heaven every day to stay in a golden ciborium; He comes to find another heaven, the heaven of our soul in which He loves to dwell.”
“i can nourish myself on nothing but truth”
“I choose them all! I want them all!”
“I know now that true charity consists in bearing all our neighbours' defects--not being surprised at their weakness, but edified at their smallest virtues.”
“I say nothing to him I love him”
“I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, nature would no longer be enamelled with lovely hues. And so it is in the world of souls, Our lord's living garden.”
“If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.”
“If I did not simply live from one moment to another, it would be impossible for me to be patient, but I only look at the present, I forget the past, and I take good care not to forestall the future.”
“It is there for each and every one of us.”
“Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
“Let us not be justices of the peace, but angels of peace.”
“May today there be peace within.
“May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
“May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
“May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
“May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
“Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.”
“My whole strength lies in prayer and sacrifice, these are my invincible arms; they can move hearts far better than words, I know it by experience.”
“One word or a pleasing smile is often enough to raise up a saddened and wounded soul.”
“Sufferings gladly borne for others convert more people than sermons.”
“The loveliest masterpiece of the heart of God is the heart of a mother.”
“The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its lovliness.”
“The world's thy ship and not thy home.”
“Trust and trust alone should lead us to love”
“When I die, I will send down a shower of roses from the heavens,I will spend my heaven by doing good on earth.”
“When one loves, one does not calculate.”
“Without love, deeds, even the most brilliant, count as nothing.”
