“In The Heart of the Church” (ms B 3v):

The Apostolic Horizon of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

Third Ongoing Formation Meeting European Carmelite Family

20 April 2024

Giampiero Molinari, O. Carm.

pdf Questions for Reflection (366 KB)

Bishop Combes, one of the pioneers of studies on the doctrine of Thérèse of Lisieux, has defined the saint’s vocation as essentially apostolic and, more precisely, missionary^[1]. Indeed, her decidedly Christocentric spirituality leads her to openness to the Church, contemplated as the mystical body of Christ, and to a desire for salvation for all its members. What she writes to the seminarian Bellière, her first “spiritual brother”, is significant:

She knows, a Carmelite who was not an apostle would stray from the purpose of her vocation and cease to be a daughter of the Seraphic Saint Teresa, who wished to give a thousand times her life to save a single soul (LT 198, 21 October 1896)^[2] .

Moreover, I believe it is sufficient to reread the famous pages of Manuscript B in which the saint manifests the series of vocations she perceives in the depths of her heart (cf. Ms B 2v-3r)^[3] to fully grasp her apostolic ardour. In these pages, Thérèse is like a “river in flood”:

‘I would like to travel the earth, to preach your name,’ she writes, addressing Jesus, ‘one mission alone would not be enough for me: I would like at the same time to proclaim the Gospel in the five parts of the world and as far as the most distant islands...’ (Ms B 3r).

In this reflection, therefore, I will try to briefly outline some moments of Thérèse’s life and spiritual experience, which led to her maturity and contributed to her spousal union with the Master flowing into evangelising anxiety. Pope Francis, in the Exhortation C’est la confiance, in addition to recalling her proclamation as patroness of the missions, presents the Carmelite of Lisieux precisely with the interesting title of teacher of evangelisation (cf. no. 9), offering us a good key to interpretation:

Thérèse [...] did not conceive of her consecration to God without seeking the good of her brothers and sisters. She shared the merciful love of the Father for the sinful son and that of the Good Shepherd for the lost, distant, wounded sheep (n. 9).

“I Felt Devoured by the Thirst for Souls:”

the ‘Christmas Grace’ of 1886 and the Experience of July 1887

At the centre of Manuscript A we find the account of two crucial moments in Thérèse’s life and spiritual experience: the so-called “Christmas Grace” of 1886 and the participation in the mystery of the Redemption experienced on a Sunday in July 1887 (cf. Ms A 44v-46v). We have already highlighted how this phase is central to the maturation of the saint, as it marks the beginning of that process of liberation from infantilism in order to grow as a woman and mother^[4] . The theologian Robert Cheib sums up these very fundamental pages of Manuscript A by defining them as “a paschal passage from self-abandonment to pro-existence”^[5] , that is, a giving of oneself for others. Thérèse’s words at the conclusion of the account of the “Christmas Grace” leave no doubt about this:

[Jesus] made me a fisher of souls; I felt a great desire to work for the conversion of sinners, a desire I had never felt so strongly. In a word, I felt charity enter my heart (Ms A 45v).

Immediately after these lines, the saint goes on to recount the experience triggered by a glance of faith cast on an image of the Crucifix that she kept in her missalette (cf. Ms A 45v-46v): she was struck by the blood falling from one of his hands and the fact that no one bothered to pick it up. Therefore,’ she writes

I decided to keep myself at the foot of the Cross to receive the Divine dew that flowed from it, understanding that I would later have to sprinkle it on souls... Jesus’ cry on the Cross also echoed continuously in my heart: ‘I thirst! These words kindled in me an unknown and very vivid ardour. I wanted to give my Beloved a drink and I myself felt devoured by the thirst of souls (Ms A 45v. Bold mine. The italics correspond to the underlining made by Thérèse herself)^[6].

In this background context, as we know, Thérèse refers to a news story of those days by narrating the conversion of Pranzini, who went from being a “great criminal” to becoming her “first son” (cf. Ms A 45v and 46v). The saint sees in all this a confirmation of her vocation:

After that unique grace, my desire to save souls grew daily! I seemed to hear Jesus saying to me as to the Samaritan woman: “Give me a drink!”. It was a true exchange of love: to souls I gave the blood of Jesus, to Jesus I offered those same souls refreshed by his Divine dew (Ms A 46v).

In my opinion, this well-known passage is central, as it shows the intimate link between the spousal chord of Thérèse’s heart and the maternal one, between the Christological dimension of her spirituality and the ecclesial horizon: the profound communion with Jesus in the mysteries of the Incarnation and the Passion expanded her heart, opening it to the Church.

This dynamic will be a constant throughout Thérèse’s short life. I will limit myself to a few examples. In the prayer she composed for the day of her religious profession (8 September 1890), distancing herself from the common opinion of the time that the damnation of many souls was taken for granted, she writes

Jesus, let me save many souls: may there not be a single damned soul today and may all the souls in purgatory be saved!... Jesus, forgive me if I say things that should not be said: I only want to rejoice and console you (Pr 2)^[7] .

In her letter of 26 December 1896, addressing the seminarian Bellière, she states:

Let us work together for souls! We have but the one day of this life to save them and thus offer the Lord the proofs of our love (LT 213).

In her correspondence with her sister Celina and her two ‘missionary brothers’, this spiritual motherhood of Thérèse is manifested in a particular way, taking on the connotations of a desire that not even death will be able to extinguish. To Bellière she writes:

I promise to remain your little sister up there too. Our union, instead of being broken, will then become more intimate: there will be no more enclosure, there will be no more grilles and my soul will be able to fly with you to distant missions. Our roles will remain the same: to you the apostolic weapons, to me prayer and love (LT 220, 24 February 1897. Bold mine)^[8] .

And to Father Roulland:

Ah, my brother, I feel it, I will be much more useful to you in Heaven than on earth [...] I really count on not remaining inactive in Heaven: my desire is to work again for the Church and for souls (LT 254, 14 July 1897).

“I Want to Be a Daughter of the Church” (Ms C 33v):

the 1887 Pilgrimage to Rome and Prayer for Priests

As we know, in November 1887 Thérèse participated in a pilgrimage to Rome on the occasion of the priestly jubilee of Leo XIII. For the saint it was a second stage in her journey of maturation, which produced a further movement of her heart. This is proven by the expression chosen to introduce the story: “I understood my vocation in Italy” (Ms A 56r). We read in Manuscript A:

For a month, I lived with many holy priests and realised that if their sublime dignity elevates them above the angels, this does not detract from the fact that they are weak and fragile men. If holy priests whom Jesus calls in his Gospel: ‘the salt of the earth’ show by their behaviour that they are in dire need of prayer, what is to be said of those who are lukewarm? (Ms A 56r).

The consequence Thérèse arrives at is obvious: the vocation of Carmel is to “keep the salt destined for souls” (Ms A 56r), that is, to accompany priests with prayer and the offering of one’s own cloistered life “as they evangelise souls with words and above all with examples” (Ms A 56r). How much Thérèse feels this vocation is perceived by how she concludes these considerations: ‘I must stop, if I went on talking about this subject I would never finish’ (Ms A 56v).

Indeed, prayer for priests would be a constant in the life of the saint, beginning with the answer given during the canonical examination that preceded her profession: ‘I came to save souls and above all to pray for priests’ (Ms A 69v). It is a theme that returns with some frequency in her correspondence with her sister Celina^[9] and that will also be present in the last part of her life. This is shown by what she writes in the last pages of Manuscript C (drafted in June 1897) speaking of the two “missionary brothers”:

I hope with the grace of the Good Lord to be of use to more than two missionaries, and I could not forget to pray for all, without leaving aside the simple priests, whose mission is sometimes as difficult to fulfil as that of the apostles preaching to the infidels. In short, I want to be a daughter of the Church (Ms C 33v).

With regard to these two missionaries, entrusted to her spiritual care, Thérèse did not limit herself to prayer alone, but accompanied them under the banner of maternity and sorority, exercising a kind of ministry of consolation, encouraging them to walk in the furrow of the ‘little way’. She wrote to the seminarian Bellière a few months before her death:

[Jesus] allows that I may still write to you to try to console you and no doubt this is not the last time. [...] When I reach port I will teach you, dear little brother of my soul, how to navigate the stormy sea of the world with the abandonment and love of a child who knows that his Father loves him tenderly and would not know how to leave him alone in the hour of danger. Ah, how I would like you to understand the tenderness of the Heart of Jesus [...].  Please, my dear brother, try [...] to persuade yourself that instead of losing me you will find me and that I will never leave you again (LT 258, 18 July 1897).

“Lure Me, We Will Run to the Effusion of Your Perfumes” (Ms C 34r):

Thérèse’s Missionary Testament

In the last pages of Manuscript C we find a passage that proves to be of some importance for the theme we are reflecting on. Thérèse comments on a verse from the Song of Songs, which, of course, she reads according to the Vulgate version: “Draw me, we will run to the outpouring of your perfumes” (Ct 1:4)^[10] , discovering in this short text a means to fulfil her mission (cf. Ms C 33r). Here is her reflection:

O Jesus, then it is not even necessary to say: Draw me, draw the souls I love. This simple word: ‘Draw me’ suffices. Lord, I understand, when a soul has allowed herself to be captivated by the intoxicating odour of your perfumes, she could not run alone, all the souls she loves are drawn behind her: this happens without compulsion, without effort, it is a natural consequence of her attraction towards you (Ms C 34r).

In the Exhortation C’est la confiance Pope Francis defines this page as a sort of “missionary testament”, glimpsing in it a theme very dear to him: evangelisation by attraction, and not proselytism (no. 10). In fact, even in this passage one can easily grasp the close link between the Christological dimension and the ecclesial horizon that characterises Thérèse’s spiritual experience: it is precisely living her nuptial vocation in depth in the silence and solitude of Carmel that allows her to experience a fruitful spiritual motherhood^[11] .

On closer inspection, reflection on this verse from the Song of Songs is nothing other than the apostolic implication of the Offering to Merciful Love. Here too, in fact, the saint speaks of immersing oneself in the “ocean without shores” of God’s love (Ms C 34r) and chooses the symbol of fire, a symbol of the Holy Spirit:

I feel that the more the fire of love will inflame my heart, the more I will say to it: Draw me, the more the souls that will come close to me [...] will run swiftly to the effusion of the perfumes of their Beloved (Ms C 36r).

And she ends her reflection with a kind of ‘corollary’: ‘a soul inflamed with love cannot remain idle’ (Ms C 36r).

Conclusion:

The Apostolic Value of Prayer

Logically, Thérèse lives her love for the Church and the mission according to her vocation as a cloistered nun. I believe, however, that her testimony reminds everyone of the apostolic value of prayer and the offering up of one’s cross. There are times in life when one can continue to serve the Church by standing like Moses on the mountain (cf. Ex 17:8-13). The saint recalls this in a letter to CELINA, placing her conviction on the lips of Jesus:

you are my Moses praying on the mountain, ask me for workers and I will send them; I await only a prayer, a sigh from your heart! (LT 135, 15 August 1892)^[12] .

A disciple of St John of the Cross, Thérèse understood perfectly well that one is more useful to the Church with a few moments of pure prayer than with many activities detached from this source^[13] . The power of prayer, in fact, lies in making us docile to the transforming action of the Spirit, in “sanctifying us, making us luminous, kindling in us the fire of Christ’s Love, and this is the root of the Church’s missionary dynamism”^[14].

^[1] Cf. M. HerrÁiz, Apostolado, in Nuevo Diccionario de Santa Teresa de Lisieux, Editorial Monte Carmelo, Burgos 2003 ,²  87.

^[2] I quote the saint's writings using the following edition: St Teresa of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, Complete Works. Writings and Last Words, LEV-OCD, Vatican City-Rome 1997. I use the usual abbreviations: Ms. A, B, C: Autobiographical Manuscripts A, B, C; LT: Letters; P: Poems; Pr: Prayers; QG: Mother Agnes' Yellow Notebook (where the so-called 'Last Words' are collected, i.e. Thérèse 's sentences noted down by Mother Agnes in her notebook).

In the poem A Nostra Signora delle Vittorie Regina delle Vergini, degli Apostoli e dei Martiri, composed a few months earlier, Thérèse had already expressed this conviction: 'Helping to save a soul / mille volte morir vorrei!' (P 35, str. 4, of 16 July 1896).

^[3] Cf. R. J. S. Centelles, "En el corazón de la Iglesia, mi madre, yo seré el Amor". Jesús y la Iglesia como misterio de amor en Teresa de Lisieux, Editrice Pontificia Università Gregoriana, Roma 2003, 203-206.

^[4] Cf. R. Cheib, The Agapic and Nuptial Hermeneutics of the Night of Thérèse of Lisieux, in Teresianum 73 (2022/2), 539.

^[5] Ibid. 540.

^[6] During her time in the infirmary, Thérèse returned to the "Grace of the Crucifix". Here are her words noted down by Mother Agnes in the Yellow Notebook on 1 August 1897: "Oh! I do not want to let this precious blood be lost. I shall spend my life collecting it for souls' (QG 1.8.1. Bold mine).

^[7] A desire already expressed on the occasion of her betrothal: 'Oh, I do not want Jesus to feel the slightest pain on the day of my betrothal: I would like to convert all sinners on earth and save all souls in purgatory' (LT 74, 6 January 1889).

^[8] Referring to St. Thérèse of Jesus, the Carmelite of Lisieux expresses the same desire to Father Roulland in a letter written the following month: cf. LT 221, 19 March 1897.

^[9] Cf. e.g. LT 94, dated 14 July 1889; LT 101, dated 31 December 1889; LT 108, dated 18 July 1890; LT 122, dated 14 October 1890.

^[10] The current CEI translation sounds like this: 'Drag me with you, let us run' (Ct 1:4).

^[11] Cf. R. Cheib, The Agapic Hermeneutic, 541.

^[12] The saint took up the comparison again in a letter to Father Roulland: "Like Joshua, she fights on the plain. I am her little Moses and unceasingly my heart is turned towards Heaven to obtain victory" (LT 201, 1 November 1896).

^[13] Cf. R. Fornara, Praying. The friendship that transforms. A practical introduction with the guidance of St Teresa of Jesus, Edizioni OCD, Rome 2023, 181. St John of the Cross addresses this theme in Spiritual Canticle 29.2-3, highlighting the ecclesial importance of contemplative love.

^[14] R. Fornara, Praying. Friendship that transforms, 182.