The Elective Chapter of the Carmelite Monastery of Jaboticabal, Brazil, was held 22 July 2013. The following were elected:

• Prioress:  Sr. Maria do Carmo Silveira Moraes, O.Carm.
• 1st Councilor:   Sr. Francisca Marlene Rocha, O.Carm.
• 2nd Councilor:  Sr. Silvana Cristina Gameiro, O.Carm.
• Director of Novices:  Sr. Silvana Cristina Gameiro, O.Carm.
• Treasurer:  Sr. Francisca Marlene Rocha, O.Carm.
• Sacristan:  Sr. Silvana Cristina Gameiro, O.Carm.

As part of the the World Youth Day, which is under way in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, more than 700 young people from various Carmelite parishes and schools of the Americas have come together.  The meeting is taking place at Holy Family school of the " Irmãs Carmelitas da Divina Providência " (ICDP), Vila Isabel. The event has been prepared over recent months by a committee chaired by Fr. Raul Maravi, O. Carm., General Councillor for the Americas, in collaboration with Fr. Wilson Fernandes, O. Carm. and a group of Carmelite friars and sisters. Fr. Geraldo D’Abadia Pires Maciel, O. Carm., Provincial of the Province of St. Elias in Rio (Fluminis Januarii) welcomed all present. The meeting began with Mass celebrated by the Prior General, Fernando Millán Romeral, O. Carm., who invited participants to enter deeply into this moment together and to assume, as young Carmelite missionaries the commitment that Pope Francis is asking of young people around the world. Later, representatives of Carmelite young people from the American continent carried in the icon of Our Lady of Hope that has presided over meetings of many young people on its pilgrimage tour across various countries and now across almost the entire territory of Brazil. This beautiful icon is presiding over and accompanying the youth for the entire gathering from the 21st to the 29th July.

In the mornings, throughout the meeting there have been several talks for the young people and a sequence of  various cultural events. On many of the evenings the young people are free to participate in World Youth Day celebrations which will culminate with a vigil and Mass with His Holiness Pope Francis to be held on Saturday 27th and Sunday 28th July respectively in "Campus Fidei" at which more than three million people are expected to be present. The meeting of these young Carmelite people is taking place in an atmosphere of joy and communion.

In order to see some of the photographs of the meeting go to:

https://www.facebook.com/JornadaMundialDaJuventudeCarmelitanaRio2013?fref=ts

Flos Carmeli, vitis florigera,
splendor caeli, Virgo puerpera singularis.
Mater mitis, sed viri nescia,
Carmelitis esto propitia, stella maris.

IN SOLLEMNITATE B.V. MARIAE DE MONTE CARMELO

Fernando Prior Generalis
Domusque Generalis Communitas
16. VII. 2013

On the 16th of July, 2013, the Solemnity of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, the decision of the Prior General, with the consent of his Council, to erect the Province of the Philippines comes into effect.  Up to now this had been a General Commissariat and before that a Provincial Commissariat of the Province of the Netherlands. Blessed Titus Brandsma will be the Patron of the new province.
The leaders who have been appointed to hold office until the first provincial chapter, in February 2014, are:

• Prior Provincial:  Fr. Christian Buenafe, O.Carm.
• First Councillor:  Fr. Rico Ponce, O.Carm.
• Second Councillor: Fr. Roberto Noel Rosas, O.Carm.
• Third Councillor:  Fr. Gilbert Sabado, O.Carm.
• Fourth Councillor:  Fr. Eduardo Albino, O.Carm.

The erection of the new province will take place on the 16th of July 2013 in Quezon City, Manila in the presence of the Vice-Prior General, Fr.  Christian Körner, O.Carm., the Councillor General for Asia, Australia and Oceania, Fr. Albertus Herwanta, O.Carm., and of the Prior Provincial of the Province of the Netherlands, Fr. Ben Wolbers, O.Carm.
We offer our congratulations and prayer to the members of the new province.

Very Reverend Fr. Prov., Fr. Prior; Rev.me, Confreres, Brother, Sisters, Brother-in-law, Children, Friends,

Once again, greetings from cell 577. Now I am here already over six weeks. But I hold out quite well. My health is all right. February 21, I had a little warning, a bit of fever and pains that made me fear that the kidney inflammation of December, 1939, would reappear. Also I asked for the doctor. But while I was afraid that it would turn worse, when the doctor arrived the next day, it had improved a lot so that the doctor saw no necessity for doing anything. For a couple of days some afterpains, less appetite, and it was over again. At the moment I am very well. Psychically I am not troubled in the least. I need neither to cry nor to sigh, sometimes I even sing a tune in my own way, not too loudly of course. I cannot manage the nights here. I cannot sleep from 8 till 7. So I am much awake at night, more than the nights exceed their normal length (sic).

I shall tell you my timetable, but you must not take it too punctually. That does not exist here. I rise at about 7 o'clock. Bell is rung, light is switched on. A short morning prayer. I strip my bed, fold blankets and sheets, receive water. Then I kneel down and say the prayers of Holy Mass, spiritual communion. Then the coffee is about to arrive, a tin half litre cup. I soak the bread in it. Angelus. Breakfast. After that, a few times weekly, cleaning up the cell. Sometimes we are given a newspaper in the morning, which I read after breakfast. Then wash and dress. Until then I live in pajamas, quite practical. Then it is about half past eight, nine. I say Matins, Lauds and Prime, and after that half an hour of meditation. They are different hours from the convent, but one has to adapt oneself. From ten to half past eleven I read, and when I have paper I also write. I am working on the Life of St. Teresa, for Spectrum. I have finished the first draft of six of the twelve chapters. After half past eleven I say the little hours. Then lunch. Angelus. Adoration in the spirit. I sing an <Adoro Te>. Then a walk in my room, three meters forward three meters back, and then the same again. Sometimes I have to laugh about it. At two o'clock Vespers and Compline. Then read or write. At four o'clock half an hour of meditation. At about 5 o'clock evening bread with milk. Angelus. Adoration. From six to half past seven read or write. 7.30 evening prayer. Rosary. At night, the light is not switched on any more. The timetable is sometimes interrupted by exercises on command, each day, except on Sundays, sport: we are about 70 from the same corridor in a small court, to walk around, to trot, to throw out arms and legs, it is fun. Ten minutes, a quarter of an hour. On our way out we take our dustbin with us and take it back, emptied, on our way back. Usually twice weekly we may shave and razors are distributed, sometimes after 2 days, sometimes after 4, and once even after 8 days. I started looking patriarchal. Sometimes there is an order to scrub the woodwork or to swab the cell, etc. I just take part in everything. Twice I have been taken to a bathing cell for a shower.

The day before yesterday I received from the laundry two sacks of underwear, and I gave along the soiled linen. Splendid. There was only one pair of socks, that is a bit little. I was very happy to receive Fr. Prior's letter of February 21, in reply to mine of 12. I received the letter on February 26. That was a joy. Many thanks for letter; Holy Mass and prayers, and for carrying out all the instructions. It is the first and until now the only one I received. It will be best if Fr. Prior writes for all, as the Provincial does for Amandus. Much news in few words. He would also be the indicated person to apply for a visit. How is the family doing? Gatsche, best wishes on March 13. How are Hubert, Cyprian, the Pastor, P. Thomas, Ewald? How are my colleagues? Did Vos de Wael get the doctorate? Has the Rochus home been furnished already?

Until now I haven't received any parcel. Maybe I'm not allowed to. I have started again at Septuagesima. Remember me, you all, I will remember you, reciprocally.

In Christ your p. Titus Brandsma, O. Carm.

Letters from Prison Scheveningen German Police Prison February 12, 1942.

Fr. Provincial, Fr. Prior, Reverendissime, Confreres, Brother, Sisters, Brother-in-law, children, friends,

Very best greetings from cell 577 Scheveningen. I am alone here. Two by four (meters) and the height is also four. A cell dwelt in becomes sweet, says Thomas à Kempis. I already feel at home here. I pray, read and write, the days are too short. From eight till seven it is night. I am quite all right in my solitude, although I miss the church, Mass, communion, and although no priest comes here. Yet God is near to me, now that I cannot go to people any more, nor people to me. I am very calm, happy and content, and I adapt myself. I will hold out very well.

My diet is looked after a bit: at night a quarter litre of whole milk and instead of the ordinary dry bread, four thick slices, buttered. In the morning, I put two of these in the coffee, at night two in the milk and I eat it with the spoon. At midday hotchpotch or soup, very well prepared, and for me abundant. Now and then there is some meat mixed with it, on Fridays some fish. Further also sugar; jam, butter and soft cheese, but in very moderate quantities. Would you be so kind as to inform Dr. de Jong that he should not worry or make himself reproaches about me. I suffer here with joy and I am quite all right. Say the same to Dr. Woltring. Send me, please, an Imitatio in Latin, a Missal of the Order, and rosary beads, the next part of the Breviary with the Kalendarium. Then, A. Hoornaert, Sainte Thérèse écrivain, Brugge, Desclée. It is on the table. Shallow, light blue cover, three fingers thick. If you can't go in maybe you can get it elsewhere, or order a new one. Further three writing pads, good ruled paper. Fortunately I am allowed to write. The first days I was also allowed to smoke. Further, pajamas, preferably the blue ones. Two shirts and two pairs of pants, stockings and handkerchiefs and a double sack with name, for the laundry, and finally somebody who every ten days exchanges the soiled laundry for the clean. Dr. Onings will be willing to find someone to do this. If you can get into my cell, send also the short jacket which is hanging behind the door or maybe better still the entire suit. If you wish to send some dessert with it, all right, but we have no knives and no tins, and are not allowed to have them either.

If Vos de Waeel has not received the doctorate yet, don't let him wait for me. Perhaps Professor Kors will want to take my place—or Professor Post. Thanks in advance. Congratulate his mother and himself on my behalf. Let Stappers (Oldenzael) find a solution to the situation of Michel Polatian with the expert accountant Winters of Venlo, as we agreed. Ask Father Van Keulen and Wijnhoven, Boxtel, to look after Sister Feugen according to her need; tell him that she has put everything in my name. The will is in Wolters' hands, so don't be worried about the situation of the Apostolate. During April of last year Miss P. Verstraaten and someone else of the Social Theology Department did their preliminary exam with me. I forgot to give them a document of proof.

Get in contact with her; ask her for the name of the other person and let Professor Hoogveld know that they did the preliminary exam successfully.

A copy of the translation of the Dark Night of P. Mauritius, Geleen, is on the table in my cell. I will no longer be able to go over it. Tell Father Wijnhoven that the copy of Sloots' Eastern Heresies was also confiscated. Sloots will have a copy. I would be very pleased to see it divided into chapters and at the beginning and end of every chapter throw some light, in each heresy, on the need for a correct description of the faith, the readiness to sacrifice, etc. It's all too much in a minor key. Let Rector Canisius know that the circular letter of the Willibrord Union for the election of members of the Council of Appeal was also confiscated, and so was not continued. And pray for me in the Communion of Saints.

Your Fr. Titus, Carmelite

"Now read, now pray, now work with fervor; so time will pass quickly and work will be easier."

On the first days I had some difficulty in fixing up a timetable; but now that I have been here for a week and know the order of things I have tried to follow a daily rule. It is difficult to do everything to time for, firstly, the ordinary things of the prison routine do not keep exactly to the clock and, secondly, it is not easy to know what time it is.

This was especially difficult in the first days because my watch, together with most things, had been taken away from me. Fortunately, I received it back last Wednesday night. I had to give a written answer to a question. I was allowed to smoke so I asked for my pipe, tobacco, etc., and at the same time for my watch. Of course it had stopped and I chose a time at random, more or less correct. There is no clock here and in things which are timed the hour is not reliable because one does not keep to it exactly. But my watch goes and so I have my own time, independent of Greenwich, Amsterdam or Berlin.

Between 6:30 and 7:00 o'clock in the morning the first sounds are heard. Then the wardens seem to awaken the young prisoners, who perform divers current jobs. About a quarter to seven a bell is rung, but very softly. Slowly further alarm is raised. Some time later people go around, the double locks seem to be opened, and the light is switched on. That is the time, at least for me, to rise. After all, it is about time to get up, having had such a long night's sleep. I make the Sign of the Cross, greet Our Lady of Mount Carmel on the shelf over my bed, and put on my stockings and slippers. Then I say three Hail Mary’s and a short prayer. Then I start stripping my bed. I shake the blankets and fold them neatly and do the same with the sheet. Then I put my water jar outside the open door. Still in my pajamas, the folded blankets lying on the mat, I kneel down and in my own manner and supplying what I do not know by heart, I say Mass, make a spiritual Communion and say the prayers of thanksgiving. It goes more quickly, in more ways than one. It is a good start to the day. At home there is meditation first and after that the Office but here I prefer to say Mass first, even though I am in night attire.

Soon the jar is brought back with fresh water. The door opens for a moment. We say good morning to each other and I begin to wash myself. I would very much like to shave but this luxury has been reduced to Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. On those days the doors open for ten minutes and we receive a safety razor, if necessary soap and shaving brush also, with which we have to manage very quickly. If the razor is not sharp we are allowed to ask for another one. When I am washing myself in the morning—about half past seven—a man comes with coffee. All of us have a nice tin cup with a handle, a plate and a spoon. At night the plate and spoon are put outside but in the morning we receive them back when the water is brought around. I crumble my bread on the plate and pour the coffee over it making quite a full plate. Then I finish dressing and leave the bread soaking. By eight o'clock I am a gentleman again—except for my beard—and dressed in black. I sit down on the stool at the table, say the Angelus, an Our Father and a Hail Mary, as in the convent, and partake of my breakfast with my spoon.

Oh, I used to do that in our Bavarian convents thirty five years ago. There, too, we crumbled the bread into the coffee and ate it with the spoon. Having cleaned the plate and spoon I commence my morning walk, enjoying my pipe as I do so, thinking of the past and the present, and repeating my Memento of Holy Mass more fully. I remember many who are remembering me and I try to live in the Communion of Saints. I do not walk far—six paces there and back, and then the same again. This walk starts at half past eight and ends by nine o'clock, by which time my pipe is empty. Then I say Matins and Lauds and Prime, often still walking. When I am tired I sit down quietly beside the table on my stool against the wall. By the time I have finished it is half past nine. Between nine o'clock and half past the light is switched off, sometimes so early that I have to stop saying my Office, although last Sunday it was kept on till ten o'clock. At half past nine I have my morning meditation, reading and meditating the life of Jesus by Cyril Verschaeve. I was able to take this book with me by permission of the officer who arrested me, and also the life of Saint Teresa in the Kwakman translation. At first they were not given to me but by later request I was permitted to have them in my cell.

At ten o'clock I start writing. During the first days I was occupied in writing an answer to the question Why do the Dutch people, especially the Catholics, resist the National Socialist Movement? I tried to give an answer in eight pages like this one. Now I am trying during my hours of writing, to fix my impressions of the time spent here; furthermore, I am writing the life of Saint Teresa, which I undertook for "The Spectrum." When I start writing I light a cigar. At half past eleven, walking again, I say Terce, Sext and None. My writing was interrupted on a few mornings by physical exercises. We have to do these every day, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon. It is a comical affair. We are called for by loud shouts. The doors open and we stand erect at the other side of the corridor until all have left their cells, each one holding his numbered dust pail in his hand. We start moving, put our pails down at the end of the corridor, pass some corridors, and arrive at an open field behind the prison: a fairly long but narrow strip of ground surrounded by a high wall.

The gymnasium teacher stands in the center. We walk around him in a broad ellipse, now in ordinary step, now on the double, now taking high steps. Sometimes we have to stretch our arms forward or to the side in a certain rhythmical movement, at others we have to keep our hands on our hips.

I continue reading until four o'clock, now and then lighting my pipe. At four o'clock I kneel down for half an hour's meditation on the life of Jesus and on mine. About half past four bread is brought for supper, which also has to serve for next morning. Until Thursday it was the ordinary bread, a lump cut into four. On Thursday morning the doctor came to see me. I told him that my stomach was fairly delicate, that on four occasions I had had a serious hemorrhage of the stomach, and that I was suffering from a rather dangerous infection by Colibacilli. I told him briefly about the treatment by several doctors and pointed out to him that my abnormally light weight, added to my chronic disease, made extra food necessary, and that this had been allowed to me by the food office in Nijmegen. He said he would have me weighed and would see what he could do. I was weighed: one hundred and twenty-six pounds, from which four pounds were subtracted for clothes. As a result I now receive milk bread instead. I have not noticed very much difference, but I think there may be some milk in it. Furthermore, the slices are buttered. At supper I receive a large sized cup half filled with whole milk instead of a full cup of skim milk.

Nothing came of the other extra food allowance. As a consequence of the concession there is a card hanging on the door of my cell now marked "Milk" and another one marked "white bread." It seems more than it is, but I can do with it. As soon as the bread is brought I let it soak in the milk and eat that. One has not much time because cup and spoon must be given back very soon. Our supper is finished by quarter past five. Then it becomes very quiet. We do not receive anything, we do not have to give anything. After supper I say the Angelus and have adoration spiritually united with the convent. Then I light a cigar and have an evening walk up and down a stretch of twelve paces as in the morning. At six o'clock I start writing and continue until quarter to eight. Then I make my bed and say night prayers at the side of my bed. It does not matter to me much when the light is switched off. I continue praying for some time and then I tuck myself under the blankets till next morning.

Scheveningen, January 28, 1942
T.B.

Fr. Joseph Chalmers, O.Carm.

The liturgical devotion to Mary among the Carmelites affected how they understood their vocation. In 1287 at the General Chapter held in Montpellier, France, it was decided that the cloak which the Carmelites wore be changed from the original striped mantle to a pure white cloak. This was understood as a symbol of the virginity of Mary. One of the favourite titles for Mary among medieval Carmelites was "Most Pure Virgin". Mary's virginity was seen as a symbol of her total dedication to God with a pure heart. She was understood to epitomise the beatitude - "Blessed are the pure in heart". Carmelites, who had their roots in the eremitical tradition, sought this same total dedication and they saw in Mary all that they were striving to be.

Another major aspect of Mary that fascinated medieval Carmelites was the divine maternity. The Carmelites, as an Order with a strong contemplative thrust, sought union with God and no closer union could be thought of than Mary carrying the divine child in her womb. Although they were an Order with many active apostolates, the Carmelites never forgot their roots as hermits on Mount Carmel. The primary aspect of their vocation was often said to be contemplation, understood as the search for an intimate relationship of union with God. They sought the presence of God within them and in the midst of their activity. Mary was an inspiration for them since she showed that close union with God was possible for a human being. She was called mother of Carmel in the sense that she nurtured the divine life within those who sought her aid. The Carmelites also thought of her as a sister because she had shared our life on earth and knew its ups and downs."

The English Carmelite theologian, John Baconthorpe (d. 1348) tried to show that the Carmelite way of life was patterned on that of Mary. He said that the Order was founded for the purpose of venerating her and he pointed out that the highest form of veneration is imitation.

One of the strongest formative influences on Carmelites from the 14th century until relatively recently was a collection of books edited by the Spanish Carmelite, Philip Ribot in 1370. This purports to be a collection of very early texts although at least some of them seem to have been written by Ribot himself. One of these books, entitled, "The Institution of the First Monks",was thought at one time to pre-date the Rule written by Albert.

According to the times in which this book was written, the interpretation of Scripture was allegorical. The cloud, which the prophet Elijah saw (1 Kings 18, 41-46), was interpreted as a symbol of Mary immaculately conceived and bearing the saviour while remaining a virgin. Mary was understood to embody what every Carmelite strives for - to remove all trace of actual sin and to be transparent in order to allow God who dwells within to shine forth.

A more modern Carmelite, Blessed Titus Brandsma, killed in Dachau in 1942 for openly opposing the Nazis, said that all Christians and especially Carmelites should be "other Marys" in the sense that just as Christ grew in her and came to birth, so must we allow the love of God to grow in us. Just as she was the "God-bearer" for the world, we too must bring God into every situation and be able to perceive the presence of God that is so often hidden by external realities. He also said that Carmelites are to prolong in the Church what God had worked in Mary. She was God's masterpiece. She had co-operated fully with God and therefore has given us an example of how to respond when God approaches - "Let it be done to me according to your word. (Lk 1, 38)24

Despite the fact that Our Lady is unlike us in that she was completely sinless and had a unique relationship with God, nevertheless Carmelites saw in her the fullest expression of what they aspired to be. They never saw her as distant or untouchable because of her privileges; instead, because of their traditional understanding of Our Lady as their Patroness, Mother and Sister, Carmelites always tended to have a close and intimate relationship with her.

Joseph Chalmers, O.Carm.

Carmelites honoured Mary especially in the liturgy." Until the debate at Cambridge, the Carmelites had celebrated an ordinary commemoration of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. This mass was often held weekly and it was to thank Mary for her continued protection of the Order. After the victory at Cambridge, the Solemn Commemoration of Our Lady of Mount Carmel was instituted. It was felt that Our Lady had made sure that the Order would survive and therefore had indeed fulfilled her role as patroness. This Solemn Commemoration began in England on the 17th July. It very quickly spread to the rest of Europe and was fixed on the 16th July.

Before the Solemn Commemoration of Our Lady of Mount Carmel had been instituted, the principal feasts of Our Lady celebrated within the Order were variously the Annunciation, the Immaculate Conception and in England especially, the Assumption.15 The Immaculate Conception, which was known as the sanctification of Mary in the womb of St. Anne", was instituted as a feast in 1306. In Rome the Carmelites invited the Roman Curia to their principal church to celebrate this feast as other orders did on their annual feast.

The Second Vatican Council stressed that devotion to Mary be nurtured especially through the liturgy. When possible Carmelites still celebrate the ordinary commemoration of Our Lady of Mount Carmel on a Saturday and the 16th July is still held as the patronal feast of the whole Order under the title of the Solemn Commemoration of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. The emphasis in the prayers of the masses in honour of Our Lady of Mount Carmel is on her protection and her guidance towards Christ her Son. For example the prayer over the gifts for the solemnity puts it this way:- ".... In your service may our love become like hers and so unite us more closely with the work of redemption".18 The office of readings for the solemnity contains an excerpt from the writings of a Carmelite mystic of the 17th century Michael of St. Augustine. He explains what Marian devotion means:- "Whoever loves her as mother must strive to acquire her humility, her purity, her poverty, her obedience; to follow her in her love of God and her neighbour - in a word, in every virtue."'

James McCaffrey

The first disciple

Mary is God's mother and our mother, too — mother of all Christians, mother of Carmel. But she is also a disciple of her Son. Paul VI, for example, speaks of Mary as the first disciple. This marks a renewed approach to the mystery of Mary in relation to her Son — 'she was the first and the most perfect of Christ's disciples,' he tells us. And his words are echoed by one of his successors, John Paul II: 'in a sense Mary as Mother became the first "disciple" of her Son,' he writes, `the first to whom he seemed to say: "Follow me"?' And follow him Mary did — as his disciple throughout her life, right to the hill of Calvary where she stood at one with him in his Passion. She is a model for every true disciple of Jesus and for every true Carmelite. As our Rule tells us — this document written for the 'Order of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel' — we are called to 'live a life of allegiance to Jesus Christ' (# 2).

Woman of faith

The Carmelite is also a person of deep faith. 'Saint Peter, in his first epistle,' writes Elizabeth of the Trinity, 'says: "Because you believe, you will be filled with an unshakable joy." I think the Carmelite actually draws her happiness from this divine source: faith' (L 236; cf. 1Pt 1:8). Mary's own journey could be described as a pilgrimage of faith. John Paul II again reminds us: '[In her faith], we can therefore rightly find a kind of "key" which unlocks for us the innermost reality of Mary'.3 And as Carmelites, we are familiar with these encouraging words of Th6rese: 'For a sermon on the Blessed Virgin to please me and do me any good, I must see her real life, not her imagined life. I'm sure that her real life was very simple. (Preachers) show her to us as unapproachable, but they should present her as imitable, bringing out her virtues, saying that she lived by faith just like ourselves, giving proofs of this from the Gospel.”

Humble surrender

We first encounter Mary at the Annunciation. It is an exchange, a dialogue, a communion in love such as Teresa describes all true Christian prayer (cf. L 8:5). It is Mary's response of love, in faith, to the God who first loved her 'Rejoice, most highly favoured one...,' says the angel, 'you have found favour with God' (Lk 1:28.30). And Mary responds: 'Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done unto me according to your word' (Lk 1:38). As God's servant she humbly surrenders, in faith, to her place in God's plan of salvation. She launches out into an unknown future — not knowing what that future holds for her, but knowing in faith who it is who holds her future. Her cousin Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, will rightly praise Mary for her faith: 'Blessed is she who believed,' she exclaims, 'that what was spoken to her by the Lord would be fulfilled' (Lk 1:45).

A gaze of wonder

We see Mary in the Gospels as she bends over the cradle of her Son, contemplating the maker of the world helpless on a bed of straw a mystery of infinite love shining through the innocent eyes of a child cradled in a manger. John of the Cross captures Mary's deep faith at the birth of her Son as she looks on the transcendent God of Israel who has become a tiny infant as the Word made flesh:

The Mother gazed in sheer wonder

on such an exchange:

in God, our weeping,

and in us, gladness,

to the one and the other

things usually so strange. (R 9)

Therese, too, speaks of the unfathomable mystery of the Bethlehem scene which challenged Mary's faith: “O God in swaddling clothes, / You delight the angels. / Word made Child, / Trembling, I bow before You. / Who then will comprehend this mystery, / A God Who made Himself a little child?... / He came to earthly exile, / The Eternal One...the Almighty!'5 No wonder she could exclaim: cannot be afraid of a God who made Himself so little for me..”

Testing the inmost heart

Mary is called by God to enter, with Jesus and Joseph, into the exodus experience of the people of God. The flight into Egypt, we are told, 'was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, "Out of Egypt have I called my Son"' (Mt 2:15). God is here reminding his people of how he had guided them on their desert journey: `Remember how the Lord your God led you for forty years in the wilderness, to humble you and to test you in order to know your inmost heart (Dt 8:2).

The Gospels do not provide us with the trials and testing of Mary's faith on her arduous journey. But the history of salvation repeats itself continually. God's specially chosen instruments are tested with difficulties. In these, they have to rely on faith because the ways of God cannot be understood with human thinking: 'My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts' (Is 55:8-9). In the inscrutable ways of his Providence, God is always testing those whom he loves, as he tested his own Son on the exodus journey of Jesus' Passion and death. Mary is no exception. Indeed, she is the one whom God has fashioned most deeply in the likeness of his Son.

Walking in darkness

At the Presentation in the Temple, the aged Simeon prepared Mary for her future trials of faith when he foretold the Passion of her Son, and her sharing in it with Jesus: 'Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, destined to be a sign of contradiction - and a sword will pierce your own soul, too - so that the secret thoughts of many may be laid bare' (Lk 2:34-35). Twelve years later, once more in the Temple, Mary's faith will again be deeply tested, when she experiences for three days the absence of God - 'Son, why have you done this to us?' she pleads. 'Behold, your father and I have been searching for you anxiously' (Lk 2:48).

Mary knows the pain of inner change in a relationship with her Son that grows as he himself grows: 'Did you not know,' he replies, 'that I must be about my Father's business?' (Lk 2:49). All this is part of Mary's faith journey in openness to the action of the Spirit. Mary walked in darkness and did not always understand the meaning of Jesus' words: `(She and Joseph) did not understand the words which he spoke to them' (Lk 2:50). Yes, Mary's faith was tested - radically and utterly tested. Therese comments in this way on Mary's finding of Jesus in the Temple: 'Mother, your gentle Child wants you to be the example / Of the soul searching for Him in the night of faith.' And she adds, significantly, that Jesus 'wanted his Mother / To be plunged into the night, in anguish of heart' (PN 54:15.16).

Accepting the mystery

Mary's faith gives meaning to her years of quiet daily living in Nazareth. As Therese aptly remarks in this same poem, addressed to Mary: 'I know that in Nazareth / You live in poverty... / It's by the ordinary way... I That you like to walk' (PN 54:17). We are reminded, here, of how uneventful life in Nazareth really was a tiny, remote and obscure village where nothing ever seemed to happen, and where life apparently continued unnoticed by the world at large. Even one of Jesus' first disciples, Nathanael, remarks on how insignificant the village was in the unfolding story of world events: 'From Nazareth? Can anything good come out of that place?' (Jn 1:46). We notice the unbelief of the villagers in response to the miracles of Jesus when he returns home: 'They were astounded, saying,... 'Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary..., and are not his sisters here with us?' (Mk 6:2-3; cf. Mt 13:54-56).

It is all part of the scandal of the Incarnation. Mary accepts the mystery in faith while others refuse. All through these hidden years, Mary has to grapple in faith with the possible misunderstanding of her seemingly scandalous pregnancy. But she keeps her secret while she 'ponders' and 'treasures' (Lk 1:29; 2:19.51) everything in her heart and 'listens to the word of God' (cf. Lk 8:21).

Never wavering

As Mary stands in eloquent silence, at one with Jesus on the Cross, she is like the gospel woman 'in travail' of whom Jesus speaks at the Last Supper: 'she has sorrow because her hour has come' (Jn 16:21). At the foot of the Cross, Mary gazed on him whom they had pierced (cf. Jn 19:25.37), her heart overflowing with compassion while the angel's words at the Annunciation must surely have remained there, echoing constantly at the back of her mind and testing her faith: 'He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there will be no end' (Lk 1:32-33). Mary never wavered: she still believed. that what was spoken to her by the Lord would be fulfilled' (Lk 1:45).

Born of her faith

“Woman, behold your son!' (Jn 19:26). These are not just bland words: they effect what they signify. They do not just designate Mary as the mother of all believers: they institute her as our mother. Mary's motherhood is born of her faith and her oneness with her Son. 'Behold your mother' (Jn 19:27), Jesus now says to his beloved disciple, who represents every disciple of Jesus. From that moment, the disciple made a place for Mary in his home — he opened his heart to receive her as his own. The invitation is there for all of us to do the same. John of the Cross repeats it: 'The Virgin comes walking, / the Word in her womb: / could you not give her / place in your room?” (P 13)

The deepest faith of all

The Calvary scene is not just a remote and distant event of the past. It has special relevance to Jesus' invitation to us to take up our cross daily and to follow him. We are with Mary, as her companions in faith, when we stand beside her on Calvary and share with her in the Passion of her Son. Edith Stein captures beautifully for us this profound mystery of our place at one with Mary in union with the Crucified:

But those whom you have chosen as companions here, Surrounding you one day at the eternal throne, We now must stand, with you, beneath the cross And purchase, with our heart blood's bitter pains, This spark of heaven for those priceless souls Whom God's own Son bequeaths to us, His heirs.

Here, Edith is simply echoing this insight of St Paul: “we are children, then heirs, heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him' (Rm 8:17). To embrace this mystery requires the deepest faith of all. So, too, does Paul's personal testimony, a verse much loved by Carmelites: 'I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake,' he tells his first converts, 'and in my body I complete what is lacking in Christ's sufferings for the sake of his body, which is the church' (Col 1:24). We have our part to play, like Mary, as co-redeemers with her Son— in his mysterious plan of redemption as it unfolds until the end of time, and I could not forget to pray for all without casting aside simple priests whose mission at times is as difficult to carry out as that of apostles preaching to the infidels. Finally, I want to be a daughter of the Church as our holy Mother St Teresa was and to pray for the Holy Father's intentions which I know embrace the whole universe. This is the general purpose of my life...

Therese of Lisieux, Story of a Soul

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,

the desert shall rejoice and blossom;

like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly,

and rejoice with joy and singing.

The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,

the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.

They shall see the glory of the Lord,

the majesty of our God.

Isaiah 35:1-2