From the Pastor’s Desk
Dear St. Mary’s Parishioners:
On the evening of September 30, 1897, a group of Carmelite nuns gathered in a crowded room of the convent infirmary where one of their own was nearing her very end. “For more than two hours, a terrible rattle tore her chest.” Wrote one of the sisters in the room that night. “Her face was blue, her hands purplish, her feet were cold, and she shook in all members. Perspiration stood out in enormous drops on her forehead and rolled down her cheeks. Her difficulties in breathing were always increasing, and in order to breathe she made little involuntary cries.” The pitiful sight was painful for those in the room. All they could do was watch in silence as her last remaining breaths exited her young but diseased lungs. Then suddenly, she grasped the crucifix with her remaining strength and looked intently on the image of the nailed Jesus; she cried out her last declaration of praise, “My God, I love you!” Then she was gone. Her head fell back against the pillow and limped lifeless toward the right.
The person was none other than St. Thérèse of Lisieux. Her last words could not have been more fitting. She strived to love God as best as she could. As simple as they were, “These last words of the saint are the key to her whole doctrine, to her interpretation of the Gospel; the act of love, expressed in her last breath was as it were the continuous breathing of her soul, the beating of her heart.” Her life revolved around seeking him more fervently, through tremendous acts of love that were shown through even the tiniest of gestures. Pope John Paul II, in his apostolic letter Novo Millennio Ineunte, referred to her as an “expert in the scientia amoris.” (Science of love)
St. Thérèse’s life story has enthralled peoples across the world, with her autobiography undergoing eighty-nine editions and its availability in over sixty languages. In the French, The Story of a Soul ranks only second to the Holy Bible, in its dispersion. The broad appeal the Little Way has achieved over the last century is in large part due to its striking applicability and utter simplicity. One does not need to escape into the isolation of the Egyptian desert like the Desert Fathers of old, or behind the cloistered walls of a medieval monastery to embrace her spirituality. One does not even need to practice radical poverty, like St. Francis and St. Clare. Nor is it required to traverse the countryside preaching the power of Christ on street corners, as St. Dominic and his early followers did. Nor does it require a towering intellect, like St. Augustine or St. Anselm, in order to pierce its depths. All Thérèse asks is a willingness to love God in all aspects of life. And this love can be practiced anywhere, behind walls of a convent, on the mission fields, in the family, in the workplace, and in any time period or age. As the name suggests, the Little Way does not need grand gestures or great heroic deeds. It can be applied in the normal, everyday circumstances that are part of the human condition, irrespective of the unique vocation that each of us are called to follow. The spirituality of the Little Way is not merely one single direct path to sanctity, but rather, a composition of critical parts united by a single motivation. As a grand orchestra is made up of a legion of musicians, the Little Way has love as its central composer.
Fr. Brian J. Soliven
