The relationship of St. Thérèse of Lisieux to the Holy Scripture.

Fr. Gorazd Cetkovský O.Carm.

The life of the church today is marked by a multitude of initiatives that often overlap. I have in mind three that are very significant for us: the ninth year of the Decade of Moral and Spiritual Renewal of our nation is coming to a close, the Holy Father has called for intensive preparation and celebration of the Jubilee of the Incarnation (in the year 2000) in his letter Tertio millenio adveniente, and from October 1st, the entire Carmelite family is engaged in preparations for the hundredth anniversary of the death of St. Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face (September 30, 1897). However, we have no doubt that the spiritual impact and fruits of this saint’s jubilee will spread far beyond the walls of our monasteries.

The "overlap" of these three initiatives should not lead us to frustration (as everyone prefers to focus on things one at a time rather than simultaneously), but we can try to glimpse what they have in common, which – despite their differences – they emphasize together. One such common element I find in the reacceptance of the gift of Scripture – in the life of the church as a community and in the spiritual life of individual Christians.

It is difficult to find among our national patrons other saints whose close relationship with Scripture is as characteristic as that of Saints Cyril and Methodius. Let us recall the words of St. Constantine in the Prologue:

“... hear all Slavic people,
hear the Word that has come from God, the word that nourishes human souls,
the word that strengthens heart and mind, the word that leads to the knowledge of God.”

It is hard for us to imagine how much effort the work cost them, which we today attribute with superficial certainty: the translation of the Holy Scripture into Old Church Slavonic, opening the treasure of Scripture to Slavic Christians.

Pope John Paul II in the aforementioned letter (in article 36) states that a part of the preparation for the Jubilee of the Incarnation must involve "serious examination of conscience," especially in relation to the church in our time. It concerns our co-responsibility, albeit indirect, for the evil (and lack of good) in today's world. The Holy Father asks how we have received the Second Vatican Council – "a great gift of the Holy Spirit to the church at the end of the second millennium... To what extent has God's word become more fully ... the inspiration for all Christian existence as demanded by the doctrinal constitution Dei verbum?" And when, after consulting with the Cardinals, the Holy Father decided that the church would prepare for the jubilee year 2000 with a three-year period, the first year dedicated to meditation on Jesus Christ (and this year 1997 will coincide with the jubilee of St. Therese), he writes in the aforementioned letter:

“It is necessary that Christians, if they are to gain true knowledge of Christ,” especially during this year return with new interest to the Bible, “both through the sacred liturgy, which is rich in divine sayings, and in devout reading or through suitable educational means or other resources.” In the revealed text before us stands the heavenly Father in love and speaks to us, showing us the nature of the Only Begotten Son and the mystery of human salvation” (article 40).

And as we set before ourselves in the Carmelite family this year with extraordinary seriousness the testimony of St. Therese of Lisieux, I cannot refrain from quoting one more papal guideline for the upcoming year: “Everything must be directed toward the primary goal of the jubilee, which is the strengthening of faith and the witness of Christians. It is therefore necessary that in each believer a strong desire for holiness be awakened, a fervent wish to convert and renew within, while deepening the need for more genuine prayer and understanding for one's neighbor, especially the most needy” (article 42).

We can recall a situation from childhood: perhaps each of us at some point received a task at school or elsewhere that was beyond our capabilities. But at home, with the help of others in the family, it turned out to be manageable after all. And we can thank God's providence that in the demands placed on us by our bishops (it was still Cardinal Tomášek nine years ago) and the Holy Father, we can "hold the hand" of our sister – the "little" Therese.

With this reflection, I do not dare to encompass the full depth of St. Therese's relationship with the Holy Scripture. I would like to present several thoughts on the acceptance of God's word in our spiritual life, while always looking at St. Therese and learning from her personal experience.

The document of the last council quoted by the Holy Father (Dei verbum) in the last chapter, titled “Holy Scripture in the Life of the Church,” encourages us: “All preaching of the church and Christian devotion must be nourished and directed by Holy Scripture.” It is not some ecclesiastical directive or regulation, but a simple consequence of faith that Scripture is “truly the word of God” (DV 24). And when the council “urgently and emphatically exhorts all believers, especially religious, to gain through frequent reading of the Holy Scripture “extremely valuable knowledge of Jesus Christ” (Phil 3:8), and quotes the saying of St. Jerome: “For ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ,” this sacred council follows in the footsteps of the simple nun from Lisieux, who walked this path seventy years earlier when it was very overgrown and scarcely trodden.

We are surprised by the fact that Therese did not have the Bible – even as a nun – simply within reach. God's word spoke to her primarily during the liturgy, and she perceived it in connection with what she was experiencing at the time. However, the selection of readings during worship was much narrower then than it is today. For personal needs, the monastic rules did not grant novices the right to have the entire Scripture at their disposal. As Therese’s relationship with Scripture deepened, she asked her sister Celina, who was still living with their father in the world, to let her bind the Gospels and the letters of St. Paul into one bundle, and Therese subsequently carried this little book (after the example of St. Cecilia) close to her heart. “Some sisters were astonished, others began to imitate her” (G. Gaucher). And when two years later, Celina also entered the convent and brought with her her notebooks of excerpts from the Bible, which their relatives, the Guérins, had, Therese, who did not have access to the Old Testament, eagerly borrowed them from her, “enthusiastically” read them in detail, and found in them Old Testament quotations with which she explained her thoughts on the "elevation".

Therese’s interest in Scripture, however, does not have anything to do with searching for originality or curiosity about the other monastery, but has that deep meaning spoken of by the council (whose statement is also adopted by the new Catechism): the aim is to know Jesus Christ. Scripture, especially the Gospels, is the source of knowledge of Jesus’ person in both its historical and spiritual dimensions. When Therese describes the life of the Virgin Mary in one of her poems or mentions that if she were a priest, she would lovingly preach about the Virgin Mary, she emphasizes presenting “the true, not the imagined” life of the Mother of Jesus, as we know it through the Gospels. At a time when there was fear of placing – even for religious – the actual text of Scripture into their hands, and various retold “lives” of the Lord Jesus and the Virgin Mary were being published, Therese writes: “... later all the books left me dry... In this helplessness, Holy Scripture and the “Following” come to my aid. In them I find sound and completely pure nourishment. But above all, it sustains me in moments of inner prayer the Gospel. In it, I find everything my poor soul needs. I discover in it always new lights, a hidden and mysterious meaning...” (AS 170). Through the completely pure nourishment of the Gospel, Therese finds Jesus in both his humanity and divinity. She simply writes: “It suffices for me to look into the Gospel, and instantly I inhale the fragrance of Jesus' life...” (AS 249) Or: “I feel that Jesus’ word is He Himself… He, the Word of God…” And she confesses to God: “Your Word is a lamp that shines on my steps...”

As an introduction to further thoughts, I would borrow the words from the letter to the Hebrews: “The word of God is alive and active, sharper than any double-edged sword...” (4:12). I would like to remind us of this duality of the word of God: when we call Scripture the word of God, we most often mean that it is a word that God says to us. As we mentioned, that’s how Therese perceived the liturgical readings, for example, the Gospel of the day when she wanted to present her request to the Holy Father for entrance into Carmel: “My heart beat very strongly and I prayed very fervently... But I was full of trust. The Gospel of that day contained beautiful words: 'Fear not, little flock, it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom'” (AS 130). I would like to take this opportunity to emphasize again how directly St. Therese accepted God’s word during the liturgy: as directed to her, to her heart. Another and perhaps the most famous example of how Therese finds God's word, advice, and answer through Scripture is an event that just a century ago was commemorated: Therese's discovery of her vocation: to be love in the church. She writes: “When my desires truly tormented me during prayer, I opened the letters of St. Paul to find some answer…” And she continues about the passage she read and adds: “The answer was clear…” and further on: “... Finally, I found peace” (AS 187n).

Now, however, to the “second edge” of the double-edged sword, which we perhaps neglect more: God's word can also be the word that I can say to God. It is a kind of hint or rather a guide offered to me in the words and attitude of Jesus or another figure in Scripture. In such an approach to Scripture, we can experience much spiritual joy and discover the wealth and beauty of the Holy Scripture in a different way. Allow me to express this with a very simple analogy. When I receive a saying, a passage from Scripture as a word from the Lord to me, it is like when parents take something from the wardrobe for a child and say, “Put this on.” And I try to see, “how does one get into that,” I'm looking to see how it fits me and I speculate what is expected of me: can I play, or am I expecting a festive visit? If I am searching for a word in Scripture in personal prayer from me to God, I approach the wardrobe myself, taking one item after another and searching: what fits best for this moment? What “suits me” or what would He like to see me in at this moment? St. Therese also gives us an example in this. She writes: “Instead of pushing forward with the Pharisee, I repeat confidently the humble prayer of the tax collector. But above all, I imitate Magdalene's behavior, her amazing or rather love-struck courage...” (AS 249). But most eloquently when she borrows what is known as the high priestly prayer of the Lord Jesus, repeats it freely and explains: “Yes, Lord, this is what I would like to repeat to you... Is it perhaps audacity? But no, you have allowed me since ancient times to be bold with you. As the father spoke to the prodigal son about his older brother, you have also said to me: ‘ALL that is mine is yours.’ Your words, Jesus, are therefore mine, and I can use them...” (AS 246). In the same way – as a participation in the prayer of Christ – for centuries the church has been praying the Psalms, the Liturgy of the Hours. And if today this prayer is ceasing to be the privilege of priests and religious, but is increasingly spreading also among the laity, we can recall that the Psalms were, alongside the Gospels, the book of Scripture that St. Therese often engaged with, and about the Liturgy of the Hours, she once mentioned: “I am not at all worthy to recite it” (AS 233).

I would be very sorry if we forgot in this contemplation the simplicity of St. Therese. Recognizing how deep her relationship with Scripture was and her sensitivity to the word of God, let us always keep in mind that it is not the result of some biblical education or study, but rather entirely the fruit of her love for Christ, the search for Jesus. The external conditions for studying Scripture were truly poor for Therese. We have already mentioned how difficult it was for her to access the text of Scripture, especially the Old Testament. Her well-known remark about how she would love – had she been a priest – to study Greek and Hebrew, “so as to understand divine thoughts, as God deigned to express them in our human language…” troubled her because the translations of individual more difficult passages of Scripture varied. She could not reach the exact meaning of a given passage through scientific analysis, but found a way to its meaning to which we are all invited: to accept Scripture as a whole. And to complement the statement of one place with other places from the Bible. The recently published Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks about this in article 112: to carefully consider the content and unity of the whole Scripture. St. Therese did not rely on a few isolated sayings, but she knew many quotes by heart, wrote down many of them: “I do not spare quotations” (AS 222), and so when in the manuscript “C” written for Mother Maria Gonzaga she explains an enlightenment about love, she presents a whole series of Scripture quotations on this topic. Just as at the very beginning of this manuscript, she writes: “Then I sought in the holy books for a hint of the elevation that I longed for, and I read these words: ...” (AS 201n.). Following in mutual connection are three passages from the Old Testament. It would be a longer excerpt, so I will only recommend it to your attention; it is a beautiful example of the profound relationship Therese had with Scripture, as we strive to know it.

Regarding St. Therese’s relationship with the Old Testament, it would be worth pausing to consider it more closely. In the post-Tridentine liturgy (but from the perspective of the history of liturgy, this is a much older matter), there were not many opportunities for Old Testament readings. It is no surprise that the temptation to a “black-and-white” scheme easily arose: the Lord is a terrible God, while the God proclaimed by Jesus is on the contrary the Father full of mercy. Therese did not succumb to such simplifications; she supports her thoughts on God's mercy precisely with excerpts from the Old Testament. All of Scripture is the word of the same one God. And like many other saints – mystics, she too was drawn into the enthusiasm for the Song of Songs: “If I had time, I would very much like to comment on the Song of Songs. In this book, I have discovered such deep things about the union of the soul with its Beloved!” G. Gaucher states that she quoted and explained verses from this little book of Scripture in a total of 35 letters and 12 poems and several other compositions.

Before we conclude our reflections, I would like to point out one more fact. We could get the impression that the Holy Scripture is an absolute value in our spiritual life, a monopolistic connector between God and us. But pay close attention: Therese, who loved Scripture so much and spoke to it so often, is remarkably free in this. Allow me to quote a longer passage: “But above all, it sustains me in moments of inner prayer the Gospel. In it, I find everything my poor soul needs. I discover in it always new lights, a hidden and mysterious meaning... I understand and know from experience that ‘the Kingdom of God is within you.’ Jesus does not need either books or teachers to instruct souls. He, the Teacher of Nations, teaches without the noise of words... I've never heard him speak, but I feel he is within me at every moment. He leads me and inspires me what I should say or do. I discover precisely at the moment when I need it the lights that until then I have not seen. The most abundant enlightenments do not come to me during inner prayer, but in the midst of daily tasks” (AS 170).

The German Carmelite Suitbert Seidl OCD points out in one article: let us not naively suppose that Therese only experienced moments of joy and enlightenment with Scripture. We have already mentioned the pain caused by the variety of translations (and interpretations). At another time, Therese expressed in a letter to Celina that she experienced insensitivity to God's word, a desert. Even she – to use a biblical parable – sometimes sowed with effort, the growth was unnoticed, yet the Lord granted her the harvest at the right time.

Although this reflection remains incomplete or inaccurate, it helps us understand why the joint letter of the general superiors of both Carmelite male orders, issued on the occasion of the upcoming anniversary of Therese, was called: BACK TO THE GOSPEL. The mission of St. Therese is expressed in it as follows: “To remind us of the essence of the Christian message.” And as features of her spirituality, in which she became a precursor (pioneer) of the Second Vatican Council, the following are mentioned:

  • return to the Gospel,
  • return to God's word,
  • to the historical Jesus and his Easter mystery of death and resurrection.

This is one of the paths to the essence of Christian faith. On this path, Therese invites us with her testimony and offers us her help.

References:

Tertio millenio adveniente, apostolic letter of John Paul II regarding the preparation for the Jubilee year 2000, Zvon, Prague 1995.
St. Therese of Lisieux: Autobiographical writings (History of a soul), 1st ed. Vimperk 1991.
Suitbert H. Seidl OCD: Therese and the Holy Scripture, Christian Inner Life, vol. 8, no. 2–3, pp. 59–64.
Chalmers Joseph O.Carm., Maccise Camilo OCD: Back to the Gospel (The Message of Therese of Lisieux), Rome 1996.
Unattributed quotes from St. Therese and Bishop Guy Gaucher are taken from his book The History of One Life, whose Czech translation is being prepared for publication by the Carmelite Publishing House.