A Conversation About Saints

Tapestry at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, Los Angeles

This morning I was engaged in a very stimulating conversation on saints.  Since the beginning of Lent I have been meeting on Friday mornings in my living room with a small group from my home parish to watch Fr. Robert Barron's documentary series CATHOLICISM.  I can't praise this series enough and the episode we watched this morning was the one on the Communion of Saints.  If I had to choose my favorite episode of the entire series this would probably be it.

He begins by telling the story of from the Gospel of Luke (5:1-11) of the call of Simon. Simon and his companions were fishing all night and caught nothing. Jesus gets into Simon's boat, uninvited, orders him to go out to deep water and cast out their nets.  They haul in a tremendous catch of fish.  Jesus then tells Simon that he will now be a fisher of men.  Fr. Barron suggests that a saint is "someone who lets Jesus into their boat."  He calls this an "invasion of Grace." Those two phrases stuck with me the first time I saw this episode and they still resonate in me every time I view it. When the people in my living room heard this I could tell that this struck them as well. 

When I was young and in Catholic school, of course we learned about the saints, but I never thought much of them.  They were interesting and sometimes strange people who appeared to be so unlike anyone I could ever knew or could strive to be like. I didn't understand why people had a devotion to the saints when they could go straight to Jesus.  The saints were no more real to me than the plaster statues that some people had in their homes or that were in church.

All that changed after beginning graduate studies in theology, when I took a course on St. Thérèse of Lisieux. I, like Fr. Barron mentions in this episode, had read her autobiography but found it overly sentimental.  I found out through the course that many people only see that one side of Thérèse and that more recent editions of her book, Story of a Soul, based on unedited translations of her original manuscript, present a very complex and not a all sentimental young woman.  As I read her letters and her poetry, I came to appreciate this complexity and came to love her.  If I could change how I felt about Thérèse, what about other saints? So began a journey that continues today of reading the lives and writings of the saints.  They have become my friends.

Part of our conversation this morning centered around Fr. Barron's remark that we should all strive to be saints. We look at the lives of saints and we see their heroic virtue and think that we can't be like that.  Why not?  When I read or hear their stories, they were just ordinary people who let Jesus be the center of their lives. Isn't that what Jesus wants of us? I admit it is not easy, but was it easy for them?  And what's the alternative. If we don't become saints then what does that mean?  I don't even want to think about that. So we decided we all want to be saints, and hopefully all came away from this video and conversation with a clearer view on what it means to be a saint.  We decided to let Jesus into our boat and set out into deep water.

Love in the Heart of the Church

Therese as a novice

Today is the 114 anniversary of the death of St. Therese of Lisieux, also known as "The Little Flower."  Tomorrow, October 1, is her feast day. When people hear that I have an affection toward St. Therese, and have read all her works, the conversation always seems to come around to receiving roses as an answer to prayers. I can honestly say that I have never ever received a rose from Therese, nor flowers of any kind. I like roses and I would love to receive one or more,  but I don't think receiving a sign is what's really important nor do I think that was what Therese had in mind when she wrote, "After my death, I will let fall a shower of roses. I will spend my heaven doing good upon earth.  I will raise up a mighty host of little saints. My mission is to make God loved..."

Therese, in her short life, came to realize that her vocation was to be "Love in the Heart of the Church." But what did Therese mean to "be" Love? She sees herself as a "victim" to God's merciful Love. She surrenders all she is to the Love of Christ, her joys, her work, her relationships, and most of all her suffering. Her aim in this surrender is to serve Christ and through serving Christ to serve the Church. Her motto, taken from John of the Cross, is "Love is repaid by love alone." In her singular devotion to Christ, in her Love for Him, she becomes Love.  It's all mystical theology and I don't claim to fully understand it, but as  Doctor of the Church Therese's theology of Love and the Little Way certainly has influenced many Catholics. 

What Therese teaches us in her "Little Way" is to make Love the focus of all that we do and all that we are.  Although Therese was a nineteenth century Carmelite, I am sure she would agree with Holy Father Benedict who wrote in his Rule in the sixth century, "Prefer nothing to the Love of Christ." The "roses" that Therese sends may not be the kind that grow in gardens, but they are petals of Divine Love that through her intercession God showers down upon those who Love.

If you have never read "The Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux," I highly recommend that you add it to your reading list.  The Therese you meet between the covers of the book is not the saccharine saint that is depicted on holy cards and statues, but a young woman who despite tremendous suffering and the Dark Night of the Soul, remains faithful and continues to BE LOVE in the heart of the Church today.

POST SCRIPT:  This afternoon after writing this I went to the store to buy some things to celebrate my husband's birthday this evening. I picked up an inexpensive bouquet of fall flowers to put on the table. Not really looking at it closely, I chose the bouquet because of the asters and mums that were prominent. As I unwrapped the cellophane surrounding the bouquet, to my surprise there were two red roses hidden in the center.

I didn't really need a sign, but thanks Therese.

Mediation - Part III

The Rosary

Continuing on Pope Benedict's reflections on meditation from his Wednesday audience:

"Mary teaches us how necessary it is to find in our days -- with all their activities -- moments to recollect ourselves in silence and to ponder all that the Lord wants to teach us, how He is present and acts in the world and in our life: to be able to stop for a moment and meditate...

The holy rosary is also a prayer of meditation: In repeating the Hail Mary we are invited to think back and to reflect upon the mystery we have announced."

If one has difficulty with meditation, or has never really engaged in it, the Rosary is a good place to begin to learn to practice the art of meditation.  When we pray the Rosary, we meditate on the mysteries of the life of Christ.  Yet so often I hear people praying the Rosary at rapid speed and wonder how they can ponder the mysteries or even reflect upon what God might be saying to them as they pray? I wrote in a previous post that I did get impatient with the way people were praying the Rosary after Mass, and I later recalled that St. Therese got annoyed at the way one of her sisters would bang her beads on the pew.  I am far from being a saint so I still have a long way to go offer it to God as Therese did.  I hope the ladies receive many graces through their race to get through it.  I am also not saying that I always pray the Rosary immersed in meditation.  Sometimes I forget what mystery I am up to, telling me that I am not really paying attention nor putting my heart into prayer.

But there are times, I like to think more often than not, when I do allow the repetition of the Hail Mary, Our Father, and Glory Be to act as a sort of mantra that keeps me focused on the mysteries.  I like to pray the Rosary slowly and often in silence. That is why I usually can't pray it with a group like the one I mentioned, as their speed and their loudness would distract me. Praying the Rosary in a group that prays it meditatively however, is often better than praying it alone.  I have experienced this on pilgrimages and in prayer groups that I once belonged to.  The many voices become as one, as if part of a choir.  The softness of the prayers and sometimes singing in between the mysteries, allows for greater meditation and focus on Christ.

Agony in the Garden
by El Greco

While I do like all the Mysteries, especially the new Luminous Mysteries since there is so much in them to meditate upon, my favorite Mystery is the First Sorrowful Mystery, the Agony in the Garden.  I have always been attracted to the story and paintings of Jesus struggling to accept the will of His Father.  How easily I struggle with doing God's will and feel that God has abandoned me in my suffering.  As I meditate on this Mystery, I put myself in the Garden and I ask Jesus to send angels to support me and ask God to give me strength. I also sense the intense agony that Jesus went through and with Him I can resign myself to accept my meager sufferings and to give them to God, "let it be as your will, not mine would have it."

To those who say the Rosary is simply a rote prayer or boring, the Pope is asking us to use the Rosary to lead us into meditation.  As Mary contemplated the events in the life of her Son, so too we imitate her and ask her to bring us closer to Jesus.

It's a Matter of Trust..and Patience

I have discovered that it is very easy to talk about trusting God, but a bit more difficult to put it into practice. Last week I wrote that I was having several medical tests.  Well, in addition to the high cholesterol, I just found that that my sonogram showed something that is potentially serious. Of course they don't tell you anything over the phone so I started to worry and after looking the condition up on the internet my mind started expecting the worst.  I decided the best thing to do was go down to the beach to walk and pray.  It was there that I realized that I have to put my money where my mouth is so to speak. I talk about trust in the Lord, now I have to do it, put all my trust in Him, no matter what the outcome.

Sunset at Jones Beach

As I was walking over the sand at sunset, I sensed a calm come over me.  I recall walking on the beach several years ago during a rough time, and "hearing" the Lord tell me that I have much more to suffer. I sort of shrugged it off, but last night those words came back to me.  Yet, what also came back to me were the words of St. Therese in one of her poems. This great saint totally embraced her suffering, giving it all to Jesus, and trusting in His Love for her.

If sometimes bitter suffering
Should come to visit your            heart,
Make it your joy:
To suffer for God...                     what sweetness!...
Then Divine tenderness
Will make you soon forget
That you walk on thorns

Well, I'm not a saint, and I don't think I can easily get to the point that Therese got with regard to her suffering and illness. But I can learn from her.  Her Love for God put her pain and suffering in the proper perspective.  I am praying that I will find out that I really don't have anything too seriously wrong, but I will have to be patient in finding out since I could not get a follow up appointment until the end of August.  Patience is a virtue that is almost as difficult to achieve as trust.  But, it is a Fruit of the Holy Spirit so perhaps God is asking me to pray my favorite novena, the Novena to the Holy Spirit.  Prayer is a better way to deal with situations like this rather than getting anxious any day.