“It is confidence and nothing but confidence that must lead us to Love.” In his letter, C’est la Confiance, published 10/15/23, Pope Francis commemorates the 150th anniversary of the birth of St. Therese of the Child Jesus. St. Therese, of course, was born in 1873 into an upper-middle class family, entered the Carmelite monastery in Lisieux at the age of 15, and died of tuberculosis nine years later. She remains today one of the most beloved of all saints, and the one who introduced the world to her revolutionary “little way” of discipleship.
Pope Francis uses two stories from Therese’s life to offer insight into how the young Doctor of the Church understood her life with Christ and her neighbor. The first took place prior to her entrance into the convent, when Therese heard the story of Henri Pranzini, a criminal sentenced to death for a triple murder, who refused to show any remorse for his crime. Somehow, the Pope writes, Therese felt a spiritual closeness to Pranzini. “By having Masses offered for him and praying with complete confidence for his salvation, she was convinced that she was drawing him ever closer to the Blood of Jesus, and she told God that she was sure that at the last moment He would pardon him, ‘even if he went to his death without any signs of repentance.’” After his execution, newspapers reported that Pranzini, upon mounting the scaffold, “suddenly, seized by an inspiration, turned, took hold of the crucifix the priest was holding out to him and kissed the sacred wounds three times.” Filled with awe at the news, Therese’s desire to save souls began to intensify, as did her understanding of the mysterious bond that exists among human creatures, such that she confidently threw herself into the infinite love of Christ and, by God’s grace, another soul was drawn into Him too. She was confident that the infinite mercy of Jesus was greater than the finite sin of the world, and that He wanted to help others receive that mercy by embracing it more deeply herself. This is a lesson for all who are saddened by loved ones who seem intractably consumed by a life of sin. By plunging more deeply into the mercy of God ourselves, we can be confident that those we love will be drawn in as well no matter how improbable it might seem.
The second story took place when Therese was in the convent and was responsible for the care of a “sick and somewhat irascible sister.” One cold winter night, Therese was helping the sister walk through the convent, and she suddenly heard a distant sound of music, which caused her to imagine “a well-lighted drawing room, brilliantly gilded, filled with elegantly dressed young ladies conversing together and conferring upon each other all sorts of compliments and other worldly remarks.” But then she looked over and saw the old, wizened nun leaning on her arm. “Instead of the beautiful strains of music I heard only her occasional complaints, and instead of the rich gildings I saw only the bricks of our austere cloister, hardly visible in the glimmering light. I cannot express in words what happened in my soul; what I know is that the Lord illumined it with rays of truth, which so far surpassed the dark brilliance of earthly feasts that I could not believe my happiness. Ah! I would not have exchanged the ten minutes employed in carrying out my humble office of charity to enjoy a thousand years of worldly feasts.” This was an experience of the “little way,” which made humble acts of charity toward others the greatest aspiration and joy of her life. Such love, according to the Holy Father, is the great driving force at the heart of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, and the secret to its renewal.
At the Church of St. Cecilia, we have a shrine on the left side of the church in which one can find both a statue of St. Therese and the Child Jesus, under the title of the Infant of Prague. There, we might ask the saint to increase our confidence in the mercy of God, and the confidence we need to be little like Therese and the Infant Christ.
posted 10/21/23