18 June 2018

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.


 

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