In her autobiography, Thérèse of Lisieux wrote: "Many of the Sisters
think that you [Mother Marie de Gonzague, Prioress] spoiled me, that
since my entrance into the holy ark, I have received from you nothing
but caresses and compliments. Nevertheless, it was not so. You will
see, dear Mother, in the copybook containing my childhood memories, what
I think of the
strong and maternal education I received from
you. From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you for not sparing
me. Jesus knew very well that His little flower stood in need of the
living waters of humiliation, for she was too weak to take root without
this kind of help, and it was through you, dear Mother, that this
blessing was given to me." (
Emphasis original) [1]
At
any time when we think we are too wise to heed the teachings of Christ
through the words of another, too self-sufficient, too invincible to
supplicate or too proud of our own experiences and intellect is when we
become weak. We cannot "take root" in the fertile soil of Goodness when
we, as living creatures that need to feed on wholesomeness which
springs forth from God's plenitude of gifts, are too proud or busy to
nurture and cultivate the spiritual vastness that characterizes our
souls. Without the Food of Life, our souls wither like a flower without
water, and our life is without meaning like a blossom without fragrance
or color. Without the kind of help that Thérèse received from her
Prioress, we are but weaklings, vulnerable to the influences of evil.
Even Thérèse of Lisieux, as saintly as she was, was not free from the sin of pride. The "
strong
and maternal education" she received from her Mother was probably kind
but stern. These lessons were for Thérèse the "living waters of
humiliation," lessons that were blessings from Jesus. These lessons she
learned well and she reached a point where she no longer needed them.
"For
a year and a half now, Jesus has willed to change the manner of making
His little flower grow. He has no doubt found her sufficiently
watered, for now it is the
sun that
aids her growth. Jesus wants to give her nothing but His smile and
this He does through you, dear Mother. This gentle sun, far from
causing the little flower to wilt, makes her progress in a marvelous
manner. She preserves, in the bottom of her calyx, the precious drops
of dew she had received, and these serve to remind her always how little
and weak she is." (
Emphasis original) [2].
I
suppose only a saint can ever reach the apex of holiness where lessons
of humility are no longer necessary save a few drops of "living waters
of humiliation" preserved purposefully as a reminder of how precarious
the grounds of holiness are, how much care needs to be exercised to
avoid misstepping, for it is easy to misstep and be once again engulfed
by the quicksand of evil. For most of the rest of us, we need to be
taught lessons of humility, over and over, so that we, too, can be
strong and stand firm like Thérèse on the grounds of holiness and not
fall into the putrid sinkholes of pride that trap us without warning,
requiring much effort from those trying to extricate us and our
willingness to be extricated and washed clean by the "living waters of
humiliation."
The day we are able to emerge under the soft embracing rays of the warm sun smelling fresh like an unfolding
blossom nurtured by the "living waters of humiliation," we must be
vigilant, especially while others are looking at us, wherever we go, at
how beautiful we are, as Thérèse was vigilant after she
attained her state of saintliness: "All creatures can bow toward her,
admire her, and shower their praises upon her. I don't know why this
is, but none of this could add one single drop of false joy she
experiences in her heart. Here she sees herself as she really is in
God's eyes: a poor little thing, nothing at all." [3], [4].
In
true humility, we are nothing at all, for all the good and beauty that we have
come from God. Without God, we are but shades without light, where
fulfillment of the spirit does not exist, giving way to the emptiness of
attention and vapidity of earthly honors, the kinds of nourishment that
do not feed but rather starve the prideful soul, that it sadly, but insatiably, craves.
[1] Thérèse, de Lisieux, Saint.
Story of a Soul The Autobiography of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux .
3rd Edition. Translated by John Clarke, O.C.D. Washington D.C.:
Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites, Inc., 1996, p.206.
[2]
Ibid.
[3]
Ibid.
[4]
"I say I do not know why, but [is] it because she was preserved from
the water of praise all the time her little calyx [was sufficiently]
filled with the dew of humiliation? Now there is no longer any danger;
on the contrary, the little flower finds the dew with which she was
filled so delightful that she would be very careful not to exchange it
for the insipid water of praise."
Ibid. I used brackets in the
quote because I took out the double negative in the original translated
sentence: "I say I do not know why, but
isn't it because she was preserved from the water of praise all the time her little calyx was
not sufficiently filled with the dew of humiliation?"
Emphasis added.
