St Therese: Chapter XII

Suffering

 Door to the infirmary where Therese died.

Like her Divine Master, she passed through the world doing good; like Him, she  had  been forgotten  and  unknown,  and  now,  still  following  in  His Footsteps,  she  was  to  climb  the  hill  of Calvary.  Accustomed  to  see  her always  suffering,  yet  always  joyous  and  brave,  Mother Prioress,  doubtless inspired by God, allowed her to take part in the Community exercises, some of  which  tired  her  extremely.  At  night,  she  would  courageously  mount  the stairs  alone,  pausing  at  each  step  to  take  breath.  It  was  with  difficulty  that she reached her cell, and then in so exhausted a state, that sometimes, as she avowed  later,  it  took  her  quite  an  hour  to  undress.  After  all  this  exertion  it was upon a hard pallet that she took her rest. Her nights, too, were very bad, and when asked if she would not like someone to be near her in her hours of pain, she replied: "Oh, no! on the contrary, I am only too glad to be in a cell away  from  my  Sisters,  that  I  may  not  be  heard.  I  am  content  to  suffer alone—as  soon  as  I  am  pitied  and  loaded  with  attentions,  my  happiness leaves me."

The Mission of Therese

One  of  the  Mothers,  having  come  to  visit  her,  did  her  a  trifling  service. "How  happy  I  should  be,"  thought  the  Mother,  "if  this  Angel  would  only say:  'I  will  repay  you  in  Heaven!'  At  that  instant  Soeur  Thérèse,  turning  to her, said: "Mother, I will repay you in Heaven!"
But more surprising than all, was her consciousness of the mission for which Our  Lord  had  destined  her.  The  veil  which  hides  the  future  seemed  lifted, and more than once she revealed to us its secrets, in prophecies which have already been realised. "I  have  never  given  the  Good  God  aught  but  love;  it  is  with  Love He will repay. AFTER MY DEATH I WILL LET FALL A SHOWER OF ROSES."
 
At  another  time  she  interrupted  a  Sister,  who  was  speaking  to  her  of  the happiness  of  Heaven,  by  the  sublime  words:  "It  is  not  that  which  attracts me."
"And  what  attracts  you?"  asked  the  other. 
"Oh!  it  is  Love!  To  love,  to  be beloved, and to return to earth to win love for our Love!"
 
One  evening,  she  welcomed  Mother  Agnes  of  Jesus  with  an  extraordinary expression of joy: "Mother!" she said, "some notes from a concert far away have  just  reached  my ears,  and  have  made  me  think  that  soon  I  shall  be listening to the wondrous melodies of Paradise. The thought, however, gave me but a moment's joy—one hope alone makes my heart beat fast: the Love that I shall receive and the Love I shall be able to give!
 
"I  feel  that  my  mission  is  soon  to  begin—my  mission  to  make  others  love
God as I love Him . . . to each souls my little way.  I WILL SPEND MY HEAVEN IN DOING GOOD UPON EARTH. Nor  is this impossible, since  from the  very heart  of  the  Beatific Vision, the Angels keep watch over us. No, there can be no rest for me until the end of the  world.  But  when  the  Angel  shall  have  said:  'Time  is  no  more!'  then  I shall rest, then I shall be able to rejoice, because the number of the elect will be complete."
 
"And what is this little way that you would teach to souls?"
 

"IT  IS  THE  WAY  OF  SPIRITUAL  CHILDHOOD,  THE  WAY  OF TRUST AND ABSOLUTE SELF-SURRENDER. I want to point out to them the means that I have always found so perfectly successful, to tell them that there is but one thing to do here below: we must offer  Jesus the  flowers  of  little  sacrifices  and  win  Him by  a  caress.  That  is
how I have won Him, and that is why I shall be made so welcome."

The picture  faithfully shows the facial expression and posture of St Therese immediately after her death, 30 September 1897. It is based on a picture by Céline. The words in the picture are: 'In the evening of this life, you will be judged on love.'

St Therese: Chapter XI

Way of spiritual childhood
Love

• Two priest brothers
• What she understands by these words from the Canticle of Canticles: 'Draw me...'
• Her confidence in God
• A visit from Heaven
• She finds peace in love
• Sublime childhood
• A call to all 'little souls'

Out of the mouth of infants and of sucklings thou hast perfected praise, because of thy enemies, that thou mayst destroy the enemy and the avenger. PS VIII 3

Excerpts

Two priest brothers

For  years  I  had  cherished  a  longing which  seemed  impossible of  realisation—to have  a  brother  a  Priest.  I often used to think that if my little brothers had not gone to Heaven, I should have had  the  happiness  of  seeing  them  at  the  Altar.  I  greatly  regretted  being deprived of this joy. Yet God went beyond my dream; I only asked for one brother  who  would  remember  me  each  day  at  the  Holy  Altar,  and  He  has
united  me  in  the  bonds  of  spiritual  friendship  with  two  of  His  apostles.  I should  like  to  tell  you,  dear  Mother,  how  Our  Divine  Master  fulfilled  my desire.

In  1895  our  holy  Mother,  St.  Teresa,  sent  my  first  brother  as  a  gift  for  my feast. It was washing day, and I was busy at my work, when Mother Agnes of  Jesus,  then Prioress,  called  me  aside  and  read  me  a  letter  from  a  young Seminarist, in which he said he had been inspired by St. Teresa to ask for a sister  who  would  devote  herself  specially  to  his  salvation,  and  to  the salvation of his future flock. He promised always to remember this spiritualsister when saying Mass, and the choice fell upon me. Dear Mother, I cannot tell  you  how  happy  this  made  me.  Such  unlooked-for  fulfillment  of  my desire awoke in my heart the joy of a child; it carried me back to those early days,  when  pleasures  were  so  keen,  that  my  heart  seemed  too  small  to contain them. Years had passed since I had tasted a like happiness, so fresh, so unfamiliar, as if forgotten chords had been stirred within me.

Fully  aware  of  my  obligations,  I  set  to  work,  and  strove  to  redouble  myfervour.  Now  and  again  I  wrote  to  my  new  brother.  Undoubtedly,  it  is  byprayer and sacrifice that we can help our missionaries, but sometimes, whenit  pleases  Our  Lord  to  unite  two  souls  for  His  Glory,  He  permits  them  to communicate  their  thoughts,  and  thus inspire  each  other  to  love God  more. Of  course  an  express  command  from  those  in  authority  is  needed  for  this, otherwise, it seems to me, that  such a correspondence would do more harm than good, if not to the missionary, at least to the Carmelite, whose manner of life tends to continual introversion. This exchange of letters, though rare, would occupy her  mind uselessly;  instead of uniting her to God, she  would perhaps fancy she  was doing wonders, when in reality, under cover of zeal,she  was doing nothing but producing needless distraction.—And here am I,launched, not upon a distraction, but upon a dissertation equally superfluous.I  shall  never  be  able  to  correct  myself  of  these  lengthy  digressions  which must  be  so  wearisome  to  you,  dear  Mother.  Forgive  me,  should  I  offend again.

Last year, at the end of May, it was your turn to give me my second brother, and  when  I  represented  that,  having  given  all  my  merits  to  one  future apostle,  I  feared  they  could  not  be  given  to  another,  you  told  me  that obedience would double their value. In the depths of my heart I thought the same  thing,  and,  since  the  zeal  of  a  Carmelite  ought  to  embrace  the  whole world,  I  hope,  with  God's  help,  to  be  of  use  to  even  more  than  two missionaries.

'Draw me...'

...my  thoughts  on  this  passage  of  the  Sacred Canticles: "Draw me—we will run!" Our Lord has said: "No man can come to Me except the Father Who hath sent Me, draw him," and later He tells us  that whosoever  seeks  shall  find,  whosoever  asks  shall  receive,  that  unto him  that  knocks  it  shall  be  opened,  and  He  adds  that  whatever  we  ask  the Father  in  His  Name shall  be  given  us. 

It  was  no  doubt  for  this reason  that, long  before  the  birth  of  Our  Lord, the  Holy  Spirit  dictated  these  prophetic words:  "Draw  me—we  will  run!"  By  asking  to  be  drawn,  we  desire  an intimate  union  with  the  object  of  our  love.  If  iron  and  fire  were  endowed with  reason,  and  the  iron  could  say:  "Draw  me!"  would  not  that  prove  its desire  to  be  identified  with  the  fire  to  the  point  of  sharing  its substance? Well, this is precisely my prayer. I  asked  Jesus  to draw  me into  the  Fire of His love, and to unite me so closely to Himself  that He may live and act in me.  I  feel  that  the  more  the  fire  of  love  consumes  my  heart,  so  much  the more shall I say: "Draw me!" and the more also will souls who draw near me run swiftly in the sweet odour of the Beloved.

Yes,  they  will  run—we shall  all  run  together,  for  souls  that  are  on  fire  can never be at rest. 

Way of spiritual childhood
Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven, for the gate is narrow

And a path and a way shall be there, and it shall be called the holy way: the simple in heart will follow it and will not go astray. (Is XXXV)

St Therese: Chapter X

Way of spiritual childhood
Peace: Simplicity

• A new light on charity
• The little brush: how it works within souls
• A prayer granted
• Crumbs that fall from the children's table
• The good Samaritan
• Ten minutes more precious than a thousand years of earthly joys

If you return and be quiet, you shall be saved: in silence and in hope shall your strength be...Behold, I have given thee to be the light of the Gentiles, that thou mayst be my salvation even to the farthest part of the earth. 

The Little Brush

Dear Mother, I am the little brush that Jesus has chosen to paint His likeness in  the  souls  you  have  confided  to  my  care.  Now  an  artist  has  several brushes—two  at  the  least:  the  first,  which  is  more  useful,  gives  the  ground tints and rapidly covers the whole canvas; the other, and smaller one, puts in the lesser touches. Mother, you represent the big brush which our Lord holds lovingly in His Hand when He wishes to do some great work in the souls of your children; and  I am the  little one  He deigns to use  afterwards, to fill in the minor details.

Prayer

Apart from the  Divine Office, which in spite of  my unworthiness is a  daily joy,  I  have  not  the  courage  to  look  through  books  for  beautiful  prayers.  I only get a headache because of their number, and besides, one is more lovely than  another.  Unable  therefore  to  say  them  all,  and  lost  in  choice,  I  do  as children who have not learnt to read—I simply tell Our Lord all that I want, and He always understands.
With me prayer is an uplifting of the heart; a glance towards heaven; a cry of gratitude  and  love,  uttered  equally  in  sorrow  and  in  joy.  In  a  word,  it  is something noble, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites it to God. Sometimes  when  I  am  in  such  a  state  of  spiritual dryness  that  not  a  single good thought occurs to me, I  say very slowly the  "Our Father" or the "Hail Mary," and these prayers suffice to take me out of myself, and wonderfully refresh me.

St Therese: Chapter IX

• The lift leading up to Heaven
• First invitations to eternal joys
• The dark night
• The table of bitterness
• How this terrestrial angel understood fraternal charity
• A great victory
• A military deserter

The way of spiritual childhood: Trust

I will be thy ever-present guide; I will lift thee up in triumph to the heights of Heaven. Is LVIII.

Excerpts

 

The lift leading up to Heaven

You know it has  ever been my desire  to become a Saint, but I have always felt,  in comparing  myself with the Saints, that I am as far removed  from them as the grain of sand, which the passer-by tramples underfoot, is remote from the mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds. Instead of being discouraged, I concluded that God would not inspire desires which could not be realised, and that I may aspire to sanctity in spite of my littleness. For me to become great is impossible. I must bear with myself and my many imperfections; but I will seek out a means of getting to Heaven by a  little  way—very  short  and  very  straight, a little way that is wholly new.
We live in an age of inventions; nowadays the rich need not trouble to climb the stairs, they have lifts instead. Well, I mean to try and find a lift by which I  may  be  raised  unto  God,  for  I  am  too  tiny  to  climb  the  steep  stairway  of perfection.  I  have  sought  to  find  in  Holy  Scripture  some  suggestion  as  to what  this  lift  might  be  which  I  so  much  desired,  and  I  read  these  words uttered  by  the  Eternal  Wisdom  Itself:  "Whosoever  is  a  little  one,  let  him come to Me." Then I drew near to God, feeling sure that I had discovered what  I  sought;  but  wishing  to  know  further  what  He  would  do  to  the  little one, I continued my search and this is what I found: "You shall be carried at the breasts and upon the knees; as one whom the mother caresseth, so will I comfort you." Never  have  I  been  consoled by words  more tender  and sweet.

What joy can be greater than to suffer for Thy Love?

Each time that my enemy would provoke me to combat, I behave as a gallant soldier.  I  know  that  a  duel  is  an  act  of  cowardice,  and  so,  without  once looking  him  in  the  face,  I  turn  my  back  on  the  foe,  then  I  hasten  to  my Saviour, and vow that I am ready to shed my blood in witness of my belief in Heaven. I tell him, if only He will deign to open it to poor unbelievers, I am content to sacrifice all pleasure in the thought of it as long as I live. And in spite of this trial, which robs me of all comfort, I still can say: "Thou hast given me, O Lord, delight in all Thou dost."  For what joy can be greater than to suffer for Thy Love? The more the suffering is and the less it appears before men, the more is it to Thy Honour and Glory. Even if—but I know it to  be  impossible—Thou  shouldst not  deign  to  heed  my  sufferings,  I  should still  be  happy  to  bear  them,  in  the  hope  that  by  my  tears  I  might  perhaps prevent or atone for one sin against Faith.

 

St Therese: Chapter VIII

• Divine nuptials
• Graces on retreat
• A saint's last teardrop
• Death of her father
• How Our Lord surpasses all her wishes
• Love's victim

walk in the way by its brightness, in the presence of the light thereof; because the things that are pleasing to God, are made known to us. Bar IV

A wedding invitation with some humour

Eight days after I had taken the veil my cousin, Jeanne Guérin, was married to Dr. La Néele. When she came to see us afterwards and I heard of all the little attentions she lavished on her husband, my heart thrilled and I thought: "It shall never be said that a woman in the world does more for her husband than I do for Jesus, my Beloved." And, filled with fresh ardour, I set myself more earnestly than ever to please my Heavenly Spouse, the King of Kings,
Who had deigned to honour me by a divine alliance.
Having  seen  the  letter  announcing  the  marriage,  I  amused  myself  by composing  the  following invitation,  which  I  read  to  the  novices  in  order  to bring  home  to  them  what  had  struck  me  so  forcibly—that  the  glory  of  all earthly unions is as nothing compared to the titles of a Spouse of Our Divine Lord.

Designed & painted by St Therese

"God  Almighty,  Creator  of  Heaven  and  Earth,  Sovereign  Ruler  of  the Universe,  and  the Glorious  Virgin  Mary,  Queen  of  the  Heavenly  Court, announce to you the Spiritual Espousals of their August Son, Jesus, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, with little Thérèse Martin, now Princess and Lady of His Kingdoms of the Holy Childhood and the Passion, assigned to her as a dowry, by her Divine Spouse, from which Kingdoms she holds her titles of nobility — of  the  Child  Jesus  and  of  the  Holy  Face.  It was not possible to invite  you  to  the  Wedding  Feast  which  took  place  on  the  Mountain  of Carmel,  September  8,  1890—the  Heavenly  Court  was  alone  admitted — but
you are  requested to be present at the  Wedding Feast which will take place to-morrow, the day of Eternity, when Jesus, the Son of God, will come in the clouds  of  Heaven,  in  the  splendour  of  His  Majesty,  to  judge  the  living and the dead.
"The hour being still uncertain, you are asked to hold yourselves in readiness
and watch."

Her father's death

St Therese aged 15 and her father

On July 29, 1894, God called my saintly and much-tried Father to Himself. For the  last two  years of his life  he was completely paralysed; so  my uncle took  him  into  his  house  and  surrounded  him  with  the  tenderest  care.  He became  quite  helpless  and  was  only  able  to  visit  us  once  during  the whole course of his illness. It was a sad interview. At the moment of parting, as we said good-bye, he raised his eyes, and pointing upwards said in a voice full of tears: "In Heaven!"
Now  that  he  was  with  God, the last  ties  which  kept  his  consoling Angel in the world were broken. Angels do not remain on this earth; when they have accomplished  their  mission,  they  return  instantly to Heaven.  That  is  why they have wings. Céline tried therefore to fly to the Carmel; but the obstacles
seemed  insurmountable. One  day,  when  matters  were  going  from  bad  to worse, I said to Our Lord  after  Holy Communion:  "Thou  knowest,  dear Jesus, how earnestly I have desired that the trials my Father endured should serve  as  his  purgatory. I long to know if  my wish  is  granted.  I  do  not  ask Thee to speak to me, I only want a sign. Thou knowest how much opposed is Sister N. to Céline's entering; if she withdraw her opposition, I shall regard it as  an  answer from Thee, and in this  way I  shall know that  my Father  went straight to Heaven."
God, Who holds in His Hand the hearts of His creatures, and inclines them as He will, deigned in His infinite mercy and  ineffable  condescension  to change that Sister's mind.  She was the first person I met after my thanksgiving, and, with  tears in her eyes, she spoke of Céline's entrance, which she now ardently desired. Shortly afterwards the Bishop set every obstacle aside, and then you were able, dear Mother, without any hesitation, to open our doors to the poor little exile.

St Therese: Chapter VII

• Therese enters the sacred Ark
• First trials
• Divine betrothal
• Snow
• A great sorrow

...there is no man who hath left house or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or children, or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, [30] Who shall not receive an hundred times as much [Mark X, 29-30}

Excerpts

Carmel

Monday,  April  9,  1888,  being  the  Feast  of  the  Annunciation,  transferred from  Passiontide,  was  the  day  chosen  for  me  to  enter  the  Carmel.  On  the evening  before, we were  gathered  around  the  table  where I  was  to  take  my place  for  the  last  time. These  farewells  are  in  themselves heartrending, and just  when  I  would  have  liked  to  be  forgotten  I  received  the  tenderest expressions of affection, as if to increase the pain of parting.
The next morning, after a last look at the happy home of my childhood, I set out   for   the   Carmel,   where   we   all   heard   Mass.   At   the   moment   of Communion, when Jesus had entered our hearts, I heard sobs on all sides. I did not shed a tear, but as I led the way to the cloister door my heart beat so violently  that  I  wondered  if  I  were  going  to  die.  Oh,  the  agony  of  that moment!  One  must  have  experienced  it  in  order  to  understand.  I  embraced all my dear ones and knelt for my Father's blessing. He, too, knelt down and blessed  me  through  his  tears.  It  was  a  sight  to  gladden  the  Angels, this  old man giving his  child to  God while she  was yet in the  springtime of life.  At length  the  doors  of  the  Carmel  closed  upon  me.  .  .  .  I  found  a  welcome  in your arms, dear Mother, and received the embraces of another family, whose devotion and love is not dreamed of by the outside world.At last my desires were realised, and I cannot describe the deep sweet peace which filled my soul. This peace has remained with me during the eight and a  half  years  of  my  life  here,  and  has  never  left  me  even  amid  the  greatest
trials.

Suffering and trials

After a photograph of January 1889

Suffering  opened  her  arms  to  me  from  the  first,  and  I  took  her  to  my heart.  In  the  solemn  examination  before  my  profession  I  declared—as  was customary—the  reason  of  my  entry  into  the  Carmel:  "I  have  come  to  save souls, and especially to pray for Priests." One cannot attain the end without adopting the means, and as Our Lord made me understand that it was by the Cross  He  would  give  me  souls,  the  more  crosses  I  met  with,  the  stronger grew  my  attraction  to  suffering.  For  five  years  this  way  was  mine,  but  I alone  knew  it;  this  was  precisely  the  flower  I  wished  to  offer  to  Jesus,  a hidden flower which keeps its perfume only for Heaven.

 

St Therese: Chapter VI

• Journey to Rome
• Audience with His Holiness Leo XIII
• Response of Monseigneur the Bishop of Bayeux
• Three months of waiting

Turn your gaze up to heaven; here I am together with all my saints. They underwent a great struggle on earth and now they have rest. Imitation of Christ: 4, III Ch XLVII

Excerpts

Rome: St Cecilia

From  the  Coliseum  we  went  to  the  Catacombs,  and  there  Céline  and  I  laid ourselves  down  in  what  had  once  been  the  tomb  of  St.  Cecilia,  and  took
some  of  the  earth  sanctified  by  her  holy  remains.  Before  our  journey  to
Rome  I  had  not  felt  any  special  devotion  to  St.  Cecilia,  but  on  visiting  the house  where  she  was  martyred,  and  hearing  her  proclaimed  "Queen  of harmony"—because  of  the  sweet  song  she  sang  in  her  heart  to  her  Divine Spouse—I  felt  more  than  devotion  towards  her,  it  was  real  love  as  for  a friend.  She  became  my  chosen  patroness, and  the  keeper  of  all  my  secrets; her abandonment to God and her boundless confidence delighted me beyond measure. They were so great that they enabled her to make souls pure which had never till then desired aught but earthly pleasures.
St.  Cecilia  is  like  the  Spouse  in  the  Canticles.  I  find  in  her  the  Scriptural
"choir in an armed camp."[10] Her life was one melodious song in the midst
of the greatest trials; and this is not strange, because we read that "the Book
of  the  Holy  Gospels  lay  ever  on  her  heart,"[11]  while  in  her  heart  reposed
the Spouse of Virgins.

An audience with the Pope

Thérèse with Pope Leo XIII. Picture by Céline

Leo  XIII, whose  cassock  and  cape  were  of  white,  was  seated  on  a  raised  chair,  and
round  him  were  grouped  various  dignitaries  of  the  church.  According  to custom each visitor knelt in turn and kissed, first the foot and next the hand of  the  venerable  Pontiff,  and  finally  received  his  blessing;  then  two  of  the Noble  Guard  signed  to  the  pilgrim  that  he  must  rise  and  pass  on  to  the adjoining room to make way for those who followed. No one uttered a word, but I was firmly determined to speak, when suddenly the  Vicar-General  of  Bayeux,  Father  Révérony,  who  was  standing  at  the Pope's right hand, told us in a loud voice that he absolutely forbade anyone to  address  the  Holy  Father.  My  heart  beat  fast.  I  turned  to  Céline,  mutely inquiring what I should do. 

"Speak!" she said.
 
The  next  moment  I  found  myself  on  my  knees  before  the  Holy  Father.  I kissed  his  foot and he held out  his  hand;  then  raising my  eyes,  which  were filled  with  tears,  I  said entreatingly:  "Holy  Father, I have  a  great  favour to ask you." At once he bent towards me till his face almost touched mine, and his  piercing  black  eyes  seemed  to  read  my  very  soul.  "Holy  Father,"  I repeated, "in honour of your jubilee, will you allow me to enter the Carmel when I am fifteen?"
 
The Vicar-General, surprised and displeased, said quickly: "Holy Father, this is  a  child who  desires  to  become  a  Carmelite,  but  the  Superiors  of  the Carmel  are  looking  into  the  matter." 

"Well,  my  child,"  said  His  Holiness, "do whatever the Superiors decide." 

Clasping my hands and resting them on his knee, I made a final effort: 

"Holy Father, if only you say 'yes,' everyone else would agree."

He looked at me fixedly and said clearly and emphatically: 

"Well, well! You will  enter  if  it  is  God's  Will." 

I  was  going  to  speak  again,  when  the  Noble Guards  motioned  to  me.  As  I  paid  little  attention  they  came  forward,  the Vicar-General  with  them,  for  I  was  still  kneeling  before  the  Pope  with  my hands resting on his knee. Just as I was forced to rise, the dear Holy Father gently placed his hand on my lips, then lifted it to bless me, letting his eyes follow me for quite a long time

St Therese: Chapter V

Continuing this series of posts giving you a flavour of the autobiography of St Therese of Lisieux. She lived a very private life and became a cloistered, Carmelite nun. She died very young at the age of 24. Despite this, she was to become one of the most widely known saints in history - and one of the favourite, with Christians of all ages and backgrounds.

• The grace of Christmas
• Zeal for souls
• First success
• Sweet intimacy with her sister Céline
• She obtains her father's permission to enter the Carmelite convent at 15
• Refusal by the Superior
• She appeals to the bishop of Bayeux

...if you ask the Father any thing in my name, he will give it you. John XVI, 23

Excerpts

First success in saving a soul

One Sunday, closing my book at the end of Mass, a picture of Our Lord on the  Cross  half  slipped  out,  showing  only  one  of  His  Divine  Hands, pierced and bleeding. I felt an indescribable thrill such as I had never felt before. My heart  was  torn  with  grief  to  see  that  Precious  Blood  falling  to  the  ground, and  no  one  caring  to  treasure  It  as  It  fell,  and  I  resolved  to  remain continually in spirit at the foot of the Cross, that I might receive the Divine Dew of Salvation and pour it forth upon souls. From that day the cry of my dying  Saviour—"I  thirst!"—sounded  incessantly  in  my  heart,  and  kindled therein  a  burning  zeal  hitherto  unknown  to  me.  My  one  desire  was  to  give my  Beloved  to  drink;  I  felt  myself  consumed  with  thirst  for  souls,  and  I longed at any cost to snatch sinners from the everlasting flames of hell.

In order still further to enkindle my ardour, Our Divine Master soon proved to me how pleasing to him was  my desire.  Just then I heard much talk of a notorious   criminal, Pranzini,   who   was   sentenced   to   death   for   several shocking  murders,  and,  as  he  was  quite  impenitent,  everyone  feared  he would  be  eternally lost.  How  I  longed  to avert  this  irreparable calamity!  In order  to  do  so  I  employed  all  the  spiritual  means  I  could  think  of,  and, knowing  that  my  own  efforts  were  unavailing,  I  offered  for  his  pardon  the infinite merits of Our Saviour and the treasures of Holy Church.Need I say that in the depths of my heart I felt certain my request would be granted? But, that I might gain courage to persevere in the quest for souls, I said  in  all  simplicity:  "My  God,  I  am  quite  sure  that  Thou  wilt pardon  this unhappy Pranzini. I should still think so if he did not confess his sins or give any  sign  of  sorrow,  because  I  have  such  confidence  in  Thy  unbounded Mercy;  but  this  is  my  first  sinner,  and  therefore  I  beg  for  just  one  sign  of repentance to reassure me."

My prayer was  granted to the letter. My Father never  allowed  us  to  read  the  papers,  but  I  did  not  think  there  was  any disobedience  in  looking  at  the  part  about  Pranzini.  The  day  after  his execution  I  hastily  opened  the paper, La  Croix,  and  what  did  I  see?  Tears betrayed  my  emotion;  I  was  obliged  to  run  out  of  the  room.  Pranzini  had mounted  the  scaffold  without  confessing  or  receiving  absolution,  and  the executioners were already dragging him towards the fatal block, when all at once,  apparently  in  answer  to  a  sudden  inspiration,  he  turned  round, seized the  crucifix  which  the  Priest  was  offering  to  him,  and  kissed  Our  Lord's Sacred  Wounds three  times. .  .  . 

Influential books: the  food  which  my  Divine  Master  abundantly  provided
me

For  a  long  time  I  had  nourished  my  spiritual  life  with  the  "fine  flour" contained  in  the Imitation  of  Christ. It  was  the  only  book  which  did  me good,  for  I  had  not  yet  found the  treasures  hidden  in  the  Holy  Gospels.  I always  had  it  with  me,  to  the amusement  of  my  people  at  home.  My  aunt used  often  to  open  it,  and  make  me  repeat  by  heart  the  first  chapter  she chanced to light upon. [Latin on scroll: Qui sequitur me non ambulat in tenebris : he that followeth me, walketh not in darkness... John VIII, 12]

Seeing  my  great  thirst  for  knowledge,  God  was  pleased,  when  I  was fourteen, to add to the "fine flour," "honey" and "oil" in abundance.This "honey" and "oil" I found in the conferences of Father Arminjon on The End  of  this  World  and  the  Mysteries  of  the  World  to  Come. While  reading this  book  my  soul  was  flooded  with  a  happiness  quite  supernatural. I experienced  a  foretaste of  what  God has  prepared  for  those  who love Him; and, seeing that eternal rewards are so much in excess of the petty sacrifices of this life, I yearned to love Our Lord, to love Him passionately, and to give Him countless proofs of affection while this was still in my power.

Fr Arminjon's book is available in English in paperback Or in a Kindle edition. See here.



 

NEW: 'Henry VIII' by Gérard Hocmard

Gérard Hocmard has just published his latest book. He writes in English and French. This one is in French and has for its subject Henry VIII. 

You can find more information about this and other works by this author at the French Amazon site here or at the UK site here.

As soon as I obtain a copy, I aim to post a review on this blog.

There was an old priest of Dun Laoghaire

Here is an email I sent recently to GH, my French philosopher-poet-historian friend:

From the toast of Scots Gaelic in my last email to a verse with some Erse, the erstwhile language of Erin's Isle.

I discovered it earlier today. It was penned by the Reverend Professor Canon Dr Eric Mascall, a distinguished theologian (and mathematician) who was educated at Latymer Upper School and Pembroke College, Cambridge. Although ordained in the Church of England in 1933,  Mascall was in no doubt that he was a Latin Catholic. He himself said a private Tridentine Mass and was a Thomist.

There was an old priest of Dun Laoghaire,
Who stood on his head for the Kaoghaire.
When people asked why,
He explained it all by
The latest liturgical thaoghaire.

Please ignore the following explanations if you're familiar with his wordplay:

Laoghaire is pronounced 'Leary'

Kaoghaire = Kyrie (first word of the Greek prayer in the traditional Latin Mass: Kyrie eleison... Lord have mercy)

thaoghaire = theory

Many thanks to the venerable and learned author of Fr Hunwicke's Mutual Enrichment.



 

St Therese: Chapter IV

• First Communion
• Confirmation
• Light and darkness
• A new separation
• Gracious deliverance from interior sufferings

O God, thou art another me, my confidant, my friend, we live together in a sweet intimacy. 

Excerpt

At last there dawned the most beautiful day of all the days of my life. How perfectly  I  remember  even  the  smallest  details  of  those  sacred  hours!  the joyful  awakening,  the  reverent  and  tender  embraces  of  my  mistresses  and older companions, the room filled with snow-white frocks, where each child was  dressed  in  turn,  and,  above  all,  our  entrance  into  the  chapel  and  the melody  of  the  morning  hymn:  "O  Altar  of  God,  where  the  Angels  are hovering." But I would not and I could not tell you all. Some things lose their fragrance when  exposed  to  the  air,  and  so,  too,  one's  inmost  thoughts  cannot  be translated   into   earthly   words   without   instantly   losing  their  deep   and heavenly meaning.

Peace be with thee

How sweet was the first embrace of Jesus! It was indeed an  embrace  of  love.  I  felt  that  I  was  loved,  and  I  said:  "I  love  Thee, and  I give myself  to  Thee  for  ever."  Jesus  asked  nothing  of  me,  and  claimed  no sacrifice;  for a long  time  He  and  little  Thérèse  had  known  and  understood one another. That day our meeting was more than simple recognition, it was perfect union. We were no longer two. Thérèse had disappeared like a drop of water lost in the immensity of the ocean; Jesus alone remained—He was the  Master,  the  King!  Had  not  Thérèse asked  Him to take  away  her  liberty which  frightened her? She felt herself so weak  and frail, that she wished to be for ever united to the Divine Strength. And then my joy became so intense, so deep, that it could not be restrained; tears   of   happiness   welled   up   and   overflowed.  My  companions  were astonished,  and  asked  each  other  afterwards:  "Why  did  she  cry?  Had  she anything  on  her  conscience?  No,  it  is  because  neither  her  Mother  nor  her dearly loved Carmelite sister is here." And no one understood that all the joy of  Heaven had  come  down into one heart, and that this heart, exiled, weak, and mortal as it was, could not contain it without tears.

St Therese: Chapter III

• School
• A painful separation
• A strange illness
• The Queen of Heaven's smile

The Lord has stretched forth his hand, he has delivered me from my terrible enemy. He has saved because he was well-pleased with me. [Based on Psalm XVIII]

Therese started school when she was eight and a half years old. All the other girls were older but she was nearly always top of the class. She was very affected by the departure of her 'little mother', her big sister Marie, to become a cloistered Carmelite nun.

Excerpts

I sought the company of  my  little  cousin  Marie,  because  she  left  me  free  to  choose  the  games  I
liked best. We were already closely united in heart and will, as if God were showing  us  in  advance  how  one  day  in  the  Carmel  we  should  embrace  the same religious life.
Very  often,  at  my  uncle's  house,  we  used  to  play  at  being  two  austere hermits, with only a poor hut, a little patch of corn, and a garden in which to grow a few vegetables. Our life was to be spent in continual contemplation, one  praying  while  the  other  engaged  in  active  duties.  All  was  done  with religious  gravity  and  decorum.  If  we  went  out,  the  make-believe  continued even in the street; the two hermits would say the Rosary, using their fingers to count on, so as not to display their devotion before those who might scoff.
One day, however, the hermit Thérèse forgot herself—before eating a cake, given  her  for  lunch, she  made a  large  Sign of  the  Cross,  and  some worldly folk did not repress a smile.

Towards the end of 1882, when she was nine years old, Therese started to suffer from persistent headaches which eventually became acute.

I do not know how to describe this extraordinary illness. I said things which I  had  never  thought  of;  I  acted  as  though  I  were  forced  to  act  in  spite  of myself;  I  seemed  nearly always  to  be  delirious; and  yet  I  feel  certain  that  I was never, for a minute, deprived of my reason. Sometimes I remained in a state  of  extreme  exhaustion  for  hours  together,  unable  to  make  the  least movement,  and  yet,  in  spite  of  this  extraordinary  torpor,  hearing  the  least whisper. I remember  it still. And what fears the devil inspired! I was afraid of everything; my bed seemed to be surrounded by frightful precipices; nails in  the  wall  took  the  terrifying  appearance  of  long  fingers, shrivelled  and blackened with fire, making me cry out in terror.

...finding  no  help  on  earth  and  nearly  dead  with pain,  turned  to  my  Heavenly  Mother,  begging  her  from  the  bottom  of  my heart  to  have  pity  on  me.  Suddenly  the  statue  seemed  to  come  to  life  and grow beautiful, with a divine beauty that I shall never find words to describe.
The   expression   of   Our   Lady's   face   was   ineffably  sweet,   tender, and compassionate; but what touched me to the very depths of my soul was her gracious smile. Then, all my pain vanished, two big tears started to my eyes and fell silently. . . .
They  were  indeed  tears  of  unmixed  heavenly  joy.  "Our  Blessed Lady has come to me, she has smiled at me. How happy I am, but I shall tell no one, or my happiness will leave me!" Such were my thoughts. Looking around, I recognised Marie; she seemed very much overcome, and looked lovingly at me, as though she guessed that I had just received a great grace.
Indeed her prayers had gained me this unspeakable favour—a smile from the Blessed Virgin! When she saw me with my eyes fixed on the statue, she said to herself: "Thérèse is cured!" And it was true. The Little Flower had come to life again—a bright ray from its glorious Sun had warmed and set it free for ever from its cruel enemy. "The dark winter is past, the rain is over and gone," and Our Lady's Little Flower gathered such strength that five years later it opened wide its petals on the fertile mountain of Carmel.

Blablacar

A new pentelope from the prolific pen of GH in France...

Blablacar is a fabulous system of car-sharing which is conquering France because of the rail strike. People hesitate at first to use it, then discover that it’s a means to meet other people totally outside their own circles and are converted. It’s viral. I’m a zealot myself. The name comes from the fact that you are bound to chat once inside the car.

You know a kir, invented by Chanoine Kir, then Mayor of Dijon.

Un milouf is mild slang for a military. The one in the poem needs to join his unit after a leave.

The curé in the last line is coming back to his presbytery.

Here goes :

Blablacar

Suite au manque de trains, à nous donc Blablacar !
Bien sûr on n’irait pas au bout du monde, au Caire…
Mais, ma foi, à Dijon pour siroter un kir
Ou bien si le milouf doit rejoindre son corps
Voire pour le curé retourner à sa cure…

Cheers !
GH 2018

[Translation: As a result of the shortage of trains, we're car-sharing; obviously, we don't go to the ends of the earth, to Cairo; but, my word, to Dijon to sip a kir, or if the serviceman needs to return to barracks; or the parish priest to his presbytery]

St Therese: Chapter II

• Death of her mother
• Les Buissonets
• Paternal love
• First confession
• Winter evenings
• Prophetic vision

Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God. Mark X, 14

Therese's mother died in her 46th year in 1877, leaving her husband and five daughters. The two eldest daughters, Marie and Pauline, took on the role of mother. The father moved the family from Alençon to Lisieux, to a large house called Les Buissonets, to be near their uncle and aunt.

Excerpts

I  could  tell  you  much  about  our  winter  evenings  at  home.  After  a  game  of draughts my sisters read aloud Dom Guéranger's Liturgical Year,and then a few  pages  of  some  other  interesting  and  instructive  book.  While  this  was going  on  I  established  myself  on  Papa's  knee,  and  when  the  reading  was done he used to sing soothing snatches of melody in his beautiful voice, as if to  lull  me to  sleep,  and  I  would lay  my  head  on  his  breast  while  he  rocked
me gently to and fro.

When I was six or seven years old I saw the sea for the first time. The sight made a deep impression on me, I could not take my eyes off it. Its majesty,and the roar of the waves, all spoke to my soul of the greatness and power of God.....That  evening  at  the  hour  when  the  sun  seems  to  sink  into  the  vast  ocean, leaving behind it a trail of glory, I sat with Pauline on a bare rock, and gazed for  long  on  this  golden  furrow  which  she  told  me  was  an  image  of  grace illumining the way of faithful souls here below. Then I pictured my soul as a tiny  barque,  with  a  graceful  white  sail,  in  the  midst  of  the  furrow, and I resolved never to let it withdraw from the sight of Jesus, so that it might sail peacefully and quickly towards the Heavenly Shore.

St Therese: Chapter I

• The first notes in a hymn of love
• A mother's heart
• Memories from the ages of two to four

Here is one little story from this chapter:

I remember a dream I had at that age which impressed itself very deeply on my memory. I thought I was walking alone in the garden when, suddenly, I saw near the arbour two hideous little devils dancing with surprising agility on a barrel of lime, in spite of the heavy irons attached to their feet. 

At first they cast fiery glances at me; then, as though suddenly terrified, I saw them, in the twinkling of an eye, throw themselves down to the bottom of the barrel, from which they came out somehow, only to run and hide themselves in the laundry which opened into the garden. 

Finding them such cowards, I wanted to know what they were going to do, and, overcoming my fears, I went to the window. The wretched little creatures were there, running about on the tables, not knowing how to hide themselves from my gaze. From time to time they came nearer, peering through the windows with an uneasy air, then, seeing that I was still there, they began to run about again looking quite desperate. 

Of course this dream was nothing extraordinary; yet I think Our Lord made use of it to show me that a soul in the state of grace has nothing to fear from the devil, who is a coward, and will even fly from the gaze of a little child.