Carmelite Mysticism Historical Sketches

Contents

Forward
Introduction
Lecture 1: In the Spirit and Strength of Elias
Lecture 2: The Hermits of Carmel
Lecture 3: The Order Flourishing in the Holy Land
Menaced by Mussulmen
Lecture 4: The Brothers of Our Lady
Lecture 5: A New Dawn. The Carmelite Nuns. Blessed John
Soreth
Lecture 6: St. Teresa. The Growth of the Mystical Life
Lecture 7: The Marian "Doctor Mysticus"
Lecture 8: New Blooming of Old Stock
Lecture 9: The Apostolate of Carmelite Mysticism
Two Final Points

                                FORWORD

                    Blessed Titus Brandsma, O. Carm.

Titus Brandsma (1881-1942) earned his doctorate in
philosophy at the Gregorian University of Rome in 1909.
On his return to his province in the Netherlands, he
taught his specialty to the Carmelite students at Oss.
When the Catholic University of Nijmegen was founded in
1923, Titus was invited to join the faculty. Besides
teaching his subject, he also lectured on mysticism,
especially of the Low Countries. He initiated a
photographic collection of manuscripts of medieval
mystics which today constitutes a precious aid to
students in the Titus Brandsma Institute of the
University of Nijmegen. In 1932 Titus was elected
rector magnificus of the University. His inaugural
address, "Godsbegrip" (the concept of God), struck his
audience as an experienced insight rather than a mere
academic exercise and continues to appeal today.

Brandsma wrote extensively in newspapers and popular
magazines as well as in learned journals, but produced
no comprehensive works of organized reasoning. A
lecture tour in the United States, in 1935, resulted in
this modest volume of no scholarly pretensions.
Nevertheless, it was the first attempt at an historical
synthesis of Carmelite spirituality. Titus' interests
were many and included Marian devotion, ecumenism,
Frisian culture, education, and journalism. The last
preoccupation was to prove the occasion of his death.

Of the attitude of the Dutch Carmelites to Nazism and
its local variety, the Dutch Nazi party, there remains
no doubt. All equally rejected the political tenets of
the oppressors and some paid for their convictions with
imprisonment and death.

The Dutch Carmelites in general reacted to the rigors
of the occupation and war with humor and courage. In
Titus Brandsma suffering blossomed into the perfection
of Christian love. Among his Carmelite brothers Titus
was universally admired for his tireless and varied
activities, but even more he was loved for his cheerful
spirit, willing helpfulness, and unassuming charity.
That these qualities were evidence of a profound
Christian maturity was proven by the dramatic ending of
his life.

After the invasion of the Netherlands by the Germans on
May 10, 1940, the Dutch hierarchy under Archbishop John
de Jong soon came into open conflict with National
Socialism. Catholics were forbidden under pain of
excommunication to participate in party activities
which violated Catholic principles. When the Catholic
press was ordered to publish news releases and
advertisements emanating from the Nazi public relations
bureau, de Jong moved to counteract the directive. He
asked Titus as spiritual director of the Catholic press
to visit editors with instructions to resist Nazi
propaganda. In making his request, the archbishop made
no secret of the danger of the mission, which Titus
equally understood. Shadowed by the Gestapo, he had
visited fourteen newspapers before he was taken into
custody on January 19, 1942. In prison at Scheveningen
he replied to questioning candidly and calmly, openly
admitting that he opposed National Socialism because it
was irreconcilable with his Catholic faith. At the
request of Captain Paul Hardegen, in charge of his
interrogation, Brandsma put into writing why the Dutch
people, and specifically Catholics, objected to Nazism.
As a result of his questioning Hardegen reported to his
superiors that Brandsma was dangerous to the cause and
should be confined for the duration of the war.

At Scheveningen Brandsma's contemplative spirit turned
his solitary cell into a haven of peace and joy. Happy
to be alone with Christ, he spent the time praying and
writing. To the long tradition of prison literature he
contributed <Mim Gel en dagorde van een gengene> (My
Cell), and he even began a biography of St. Teresa of
Avila, writing between the lines of a book. His often
printed and translated "Prayer Before a Picture of
Christ" [which] speaks the simple and humble language
of a lover:

<O Jesus, when I look on you My love for you starts up
anew, And tells me that your heart loves me And you my
special friend would be.

More courage I will need for sure, But any pain I will
endure, Because it makes me like to you And leads unto
your kingdom too.

In sorrow do I find my bliss, For sorrow now no more is
this: Rather the path that must be trod, That makes me
one with you, my God.

Oh, leave me here alone and still, And all around the
cold and chill. To enter here I will have none; I weary
not when I'm alone.

For, Jesus you are at my side; Never so close did we
abide. Stay with me, Jesus, my delight, Your presence
near makes all things right>.

On March 12, 1942, Titus was transferred out of
Scheveningen, ending on June 19 in the dreaded
concentration camp of Dachau. In that hell the frail
sixty-one year old Carmelite lasted little more than a
month, being dispatched with a lethal injection on July
26. This is not the place to describe his heroic
suffering; suffice to record his prayerful calm, his
cheerful optimism, his support of his fellow sufferers,
his genuine love of his hateful tormentors.

Survivors of those brutal years would become witnesses
of Titus Brandsma's heroic virtue. On November 3, 1985,
in the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome, the Church
honored Titus Brandsma with the titles of Blessed and
Martyr.


Joachim Smet, O. Carm.

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Foreword and translation of Titus Brandsma's "Prayer"
are excerpted from The Carmelites: A History of the
Brothers of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, Vol. IV, The
Modern Period 1750-1950, by Joachim Smet, O. Carm.
Carmelite Press, Darien, IL.1985.

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                              INTRODUCTION

The lectures on the development and progress of
Carmelite mysticism written by the Rev. Titus Brandsma,
O. Carm., Ph.D., formerly rector of the Catholic
University of Holland and professor of the history of
mysticism and Dean of the Faculty of Philosophy in the
same school, will be doubly welcome. First,
authoritative works on Carmelite life and history
written in English are somewhat rare; second, the
author by his many years of research and lecture in the
matter discussed is eminently qualified to speak. The
lectures are a development of the lecture given at the
Catholic University in Washington on July 26, 1935.

It seems well to single out for comment a few points
from the many important conclusions drawn by Father
Brandsma. The first concerns the foundation of the
Carmelite Order. Father Brandsma together with the
early Fathers of the Church assumes that the Prophet
Elias was the founder and inspiration of all eremitical
and religious life. Whatever ideal other orders and
religious may have added to those offered by the great
Prophet of Carmel, the Carmelites have chosen to retain
Elias for their ideal and teacher and have always
striven to realise in their own lives the example set
by him. They have never recognized any other teacher.
They alone of all those who in the beginning strove to
imitate the great Prophet, remain faithful to their
first ideal and so have every right to claim the
Prophet Elias as their Founder.

The second point refers to the spirit of prayer and
contemplation of the Order of Carmel. The learned
author points out that it is a mistake to point to St.
Teresa and St. John of the Cross at the beginnings of
the Carmelite school of mysticism. These two saints
were trained in the spiritual life and made their
religious profession under the mitigated Rule of
Carmel. They were, therefore, only continuing the
tradition of the Order in which they had made their
religious profession and were transmitting to posterity
the spirit of Carmel imbibed from their parent Order.
Thus the spirit of prayer and mysticism is not
different in the two Orders of Carmel; rather it is the
same, since one spring gives rise to the two streams
flowing side by side.

The third point deals with the Marian character of the
writings of St. John of the Cross, the Mystical Doctor.
Some have criticised St. John of the Cross and have
tried to show that he has neglected the Virgin Mother
of Carmel in his writing whereas as a Carmelite he
should have made much of her. Our author shows how St.
John assumes devotion to Mary as common Carmelite
heritage. It was as useless to enlarge on what was
taken for granted as to enlarge on the fact that one
breathes. He shows that St. John's doctrine cannot be
conceived without devotion to Mary the Mother of God.


IN THE SPIRIT AND STRENGTH OF ELIAS

Mount Carmel, Retreat of Contemplative Life,
Characterised in Elias.

As in daily life, so also in spiritual life, it is of
the greatest importance to have a model of inspiration,
an exemplar for imitation. Carmelite spirituality has
such a model.

The Carmelite Order derives its name from the holy
mountain of its beginning. In that eastern land where
every mountain has its own great memories Mount Carmel
has some of the most holy. Carmel is a name which is
familiar in every part of the Catholic world; it is
intimately known as no other, and its natural beauty
seems to be exactly in keeping with its gracious
associations. Its quiet outline may be seen rising
above the waters of the Mediterranean and from its
summit one may see the great plain of Esdraelon
stretching away into the distance, where the
contemplative soul looks down on the mystery of
Nazareth.

Carmel is the natural retreat of the contemplative, and
it is not unfitting that on its slopes should stand the
Cloister of Carmel, the cradle of the Order. It stands
above the turmoil of life, above the world's stormy
sea; its solitude is beyond the reach of "life's fitful
fever"; it is wrapped in the peace of God. Such a peace
we naturally associate with Carmel, but it has other
associations more stirring and more turbulent. The
memory of the great spiritual warfare of Elias still
clings to it. It was here he gathered together all
Israel and flung reproach at their heads. "How long do
you halt between two sides? If the Lord be God, follow
Him." Here Israel heard his challenge in words of
flame, as a burning torch. But here he was more than
the Prophet of the sword, here he was also the first of
a long line of those who would worship God in spirit
and in truth. In his lifetime disciples gathered round
him and learned from him the deep secrets of his prayer
and communion with God. His double spirit passed to
Eliseus, and from him to the school of Prophets, and so
down through the ages, the life of Elias has been
continued in these hermits who ever sought inspiration
in their great exemplar.

When Europe was full of the battle cry of the
Crusaders, "God wills it," and the Crusaders set out to
recapture the holy places, Carmel was one of the first
places to be won back. There they found the ruins of
the old sanctuaries, and we are told some of them
remained to restore the old life. From the narrative of
John Phocas, a Greek monk, 1177, we know that one of
the Crusaders of the West, St. Berthold, was instructed
by the holy Prophet to collect together on Mount
Carmel, those who were living the eremitical life
there, and to unite them in community life; the year
may be 1155. So the Prophet stands at the Order's
beginning. For proof of this we rely not so much on
historical research, as on the fact that his memory and
life has left their stamp upon the Order's life. He has
ever been the Order's great exemplar. Indeed, so
permanent has been his influence that St. Jerome calls
him "the father of all the hermits and monks." In his
epistle to Paulinus (<Ep. 58: Ed. Migne, P.L. t. 22, p.
583>), he makes reference to Elias, <Noster princeps
Elias, nostri duces, filii Prophetarum>. Likewise,
Cassian in his conferences points to him as the great
example of all monks. Similarly the testimony of
Phocas, already mentioned, is completed by that of
James de Vitry who was Bishop of Jean d'Acre, and well
known to the hermits. It was written in 1221. He tells
us that many Crusaders remained in the Holy Land for
the sake of their devotion, to sacrifice their lives to
God in places sanctified by His life. Some of those, he
says, after the example of the Prophet Elias, dwelt in
the caves of Carmel near the fountain of the Prophet
and the sanctuary of Saint Margarita. Is it not
providential that the first monks of the Order of
Carmel, symbolising the imitation of Elias, drank the
water from the fountain that bears his name?

Also we may mention here an old manuscript, the
<Institutio Primorum Monachorum>, which contains the
oldest traditions of the Order. It was probably written
late in the 13th or at the beginning of the 14th
century after the dispersion of the monks to the West,
but was formerly ascribed to a much earlier date. It is
a record of traditions much older than itself, and was
meant to be a definite and permanent guide for the
monks. In it we read that the guidance which the Holy
Ghost gave to Elias and the promises made to him, must
be the guiding principles in the life of the hermits on
Carmel. The monastic life must follow the lines
indicated by his life and experience. It must reflect
his double spirit, the life of activity and the
exercise of virtue in individual or social activity.
This double spirit has a three-fold sense.

Double Spirit

The first is the double portion of the inheritance of
the Father, the portion of the first-born son, the
portion of the privileged children. The Carmelites are
the privileged children of the great prophet and ask
from him the portion of the primogenitus. But only he
who has the intention of maintaining the noble
traditions of the house may ask this privileged
portion. If we ask his double spirit in this sense, we
have to be his first sons and to follow him as well as
possible.

Another sense is given to this double spirit: namely,
the marvelous mixture of contemplative and active life
in the great prophet. He was, above all, the great
contemplative, but God called him many times from his
contemplation to the active life and his place in the
history of Israel is as one of its most untiring
laborers. <Abilt autem inde in montem Carmeli>. He
always returned to the solitude of the life of
contemplation. So the Carmelites must be
contemplatives, who from their active life always
return to the contemplative as to the higher and better
part of their vocation.

However, the double spirit of the prophet is spoken of
in a third sense as the harmonious union of the human
exercise of virtue and the divine infusion of mystical
life; the union of the via <purgativa> and
<illuminativa> with the <via unitiva>. It is in this
third sense that the old institution of the Order has
taken the double spirit of Elias and this double spirit
we must ask of Heaven. Our institution must reflect his
double spirit; the life of the exercise of virtue in
individual or social activity, founded on a life of
prayer, and the life of continual practise of
meditation, crowned by active contemplation or prayer
of simplicity and that other spirit unspeakably more
exalted: the mystical, real experience of God, even in
this life. It must be the union of active and passive
contemplation, the union of human endeavour and the
infusion of the mystical life by God. Our sufferings
and sacrifices, our labours and exercises in prayer and
virtue will be rewarded by God with the beatifying
vision of His love and greatness.

So we may truly say that "the life of Elias is the
shortest summary of the Order's life." But we
immediately have to ask: What are the characteristics
of this prophetical life?

Three-fold Basis of Elias' Life of Prayer

When Elias was being taken away from the earth in a
fiery chariot, Eliseus, his faithful disciple, begged
of him the inheritance of his double spirit. In the
mantle which he received and with which he covered his
shoulders, Eliseus received the inheritance he had
asked for. The Prophet's mantle was to him a symbol of
an assurance, and through the miracles worked by this
mantle his disciples understood that the spirit of
Elias had descended on Eliseus. And just as Eliseus
walked in the spirit and strength of Elias, so his
disciples followed him. It is the same spirit the Order
has ever striven to continue in its members. It ever
sets before them the ideal of the double spirit and
gives the promise of a double crown.

Exercise of Living in the Presence of God.

To what degree of contemplation Elias was raised on
Horeb, is an academic question. There are some who say
he saw the Lord face to face as we hope to see Him in
Heaven. All spiritual writers number Elias among the
most favoured mystic seers. His experience on Horeb was
a reflection of what he was to witness on Thabor, when
the Saviour was transfigured and Moses and Elias were
seen associated in His blinding glory. The Holy
Scriptures say of Moses that when he descended from
Sinai after his conversation with God, on his face was
spread the brightness and glory of divine light, so
that the Jews dared not look at his face. The same is
not said of Elias, but we see him coming to the Jews,
as if from another world, from the courts of Heaven,
and declaring at his appearance, Vivit Deus, in culus
conspectu sto. This is the foundation of his life of
prayer.

This living in the presence of God, this placing
himself before the face of God, is a characteristic
which the children of Carmel have inherited from the
great Prophet: Conversatio nostra in coelis est "Our
conversation is in heaven." Elias was not taken up to
heaven, but here on earth lived in heaven and stood
with a pious heart before God's throne: "God lives, I
am standing before His face." The words of the
Archangel Raphael spoken to Tobias are reminiscent of
the words of Elias. After he had accompanied Tobias
under the name of Azarias and brought him safely on his
journey, he revealed himself as an Angel of God. "One
of the seven who stood before God." "I seemed indeed to
eat and drink with you, but I use an invisible meat and
drink which cannot be seen by men." This realisation of
the presence of God is of the very greatest
significance in the religious life.

We need not say that this practice of the presence of
God is not confined entirely to the Order of Carmel. It
is at the root of all spiritual life and though methods
may differ, all spiritual writers lay it down as an
essential element in religious development. But in
Carmel it takes a special place. It is significant that
one of the most widely known works on the practice of
the presence of God was written by a simple lay brother
of the Parisian Carmel. He was born in 1866 and died at
the age of twenty-five. The book is a slight work
containing four dialogues and sixteen letters of great
importance. It was published a year after his death and
soon afterwards translated into English. It has since
been translated into nearly every language, including
Esperanto.

In our own times Little Therese of the Child Jesus and
the Holy Face is the great example of this exercise of
the presence of God, expressing itself in her devotion
to the Holy Face. This devotion was also always
characteristic of her sister, St. Teresa of Avila. In
many of our old churches we may yet see traces of this
Carmelite devotion to the Holy Face. The picture is
painted on the big keystone of the gable of the
sanctuary of our old churches at Mainz and Frankfort-
on-the-Main, looking down on the choir and surrounded
by appropriate texts, reminding those in prayer that
the eyes of God are always upon them and that they must
look upwards to the Holy Face.

Love of Solitude

But if Elias is the great type of contemplation, set
deep in the heart of the ancient law, he is also a
great ascetic. And in this characteristic we find a
second foundation of his life of prayer, which is his
love of solitude, to which he always returns and to
which he is sent by God. But before endowing him so
abundantly God required great renunciations. "The great
hermit," says St. Jerome, "the lover of solitude, is
led into the wilderness by the spirit of God." There he
understands the words of the Psalmist, Sedebit
solftarius et tacebit et levabit se super se. "The
desolate sets himself down there and holds his peace
and lifts himself above himself."

We may see a third foundation of his life of prayer in
his detachment from the world. If he is lifted up to
God, it is at the price of sacrifice. "The Lord called
him from his birthplace and from his own people." And
as Our Lord after him, he tastes the bitterness of the
lonely world.

God tried His servant in many and difficult ways. He
demanded his cooperation, but above all he asked an
unquestioning faith, absolute trust in God's
Providence.

Detachment from the World, Including Mortification,
Abstinence and Poverty

We may truly say that the life of high contemplation of
the Prophet was not only founded on the practice of all
virtues, but that this practice and exercise of prayer
and virtue -- heroic virtue -- accompany and follow his
visions and mystical graces. These mystical graces are
a free gift of God, but God did not grant them without
asking great and heroic virtue as a human disposition
and preparation.

Combination of Liturgical and Contemplative Prayer

But after all, prayer is the chief characteristic of
the great Prophet. His life is steeped in it. So St.
James teaches that he is the great example of continual
prayer. And we see in the prayer of Elias a
providential union of oral and liturgical prayer with
the prayer of meditation and contemplation --
contemplation in its double sense, active and passive.

We may see in him an example of liturgical prayer, for
the singing of God's praises was an important item in
the school of Prophets. The word, "Prophet," in the
ancient law had a wider meaning than we attach to it
now. It was used to describe not only one who
prophesied, one who had been given that special gift of
God, but also one who sang the praise of God together
with others, usually seven times a day. At an earlier
period of Israel's history, we are told, Saul was among
the prophets, not in the sense that he had the gift of
prophecy, but that he joined in the singing of the
praises of God in these distinct groups. Elias was the
Prophet in all the meanings of the term. He had a
school and disciples not in one place, but in many, and
most probably led them in prayer at fixed times.

So we may say that liturgical prayer comes to us from a
very ancient tradition, even though it is secondary to
the deeper prayer of meditation and contemplation.

Our Order is not an Order of liturgical prayer, like
the old Eastern Order of the Basilians or the Western
Order of the Benedictines, but liturgical prayer has a
special confirmation in our own Rite and must always
hold a high place in our living with God. The Rule
calls us together to the choir to say the Office in
community, liturgically.

St. Teresa, in her love for liturgical prayer, would so
impregnate it with holy thoughts, that it, too, in a
sense, would become contemplative prayer, prayer of
active contemplation. The influence and attraction of
simple and devout Carmelite liturgical life has always
been great. More than one Carmel on the continent has
been founded because of it.

Growth of Contemplative Life in the Desert by
Eucharistic Food

Very characteristic of Carmelite spirituality is its
conception of spiritual life as a growing thing; and
here the life of the Prophet gives another remarkable
lesson. Like the natural, our spiritual life demands
food. Holy Scripture tells us how Elias, on the
strength of the mystical food ministered to him by the
Angel, walked forty days and forty nights to Mount
Horeb. Here he was allowed to see God. Our spiritual
life, and our mystical life desire the holy Food given
to us by God in the Holy Sacrament of the Altar.

In the school of Carmel the mystical contemplative life
is the fruit of the Eucharistic life. For the Blessed
Sacrament of the Altar, the fountain of our life of
prayer, the life of Elias provides us with a most
striking type. The miraculous bread ministered to him
is a perfect image of that Eucharistic food, in the
strength of which we walk in life's journey here below.

The special cult of the Holy Sacrament has not been
confined to Carmel, but we can say that it has always
been a constant and important part of our Carmelite
tradition. Our Carmelite Convents have in many
instances been centres of Eucharistic worship. St. Mary
Magdalen de Pazzi was attracted to the Carmel of
Florence by the fact that the Sisters received Holy
Communion every day, a custom not usual in those days.
To St. Teresa there was no greater joy than the opening
of a new church or chapel as a dwelling for the Lord.
It is prescribed by the Rule that all members of a
Carmelite Community attend the Holy Sacrifice daily and
that the chapel be in the centre of the cloister, easy
of access at all times, and that the Canonical Hours be
recited in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. Being
a mendicant Order, its churches and cloisters are plain
and simple in their architecture, but in the adornment
of their churches and altars poverty is not prescribed.
This is a notable departure from the custom of other
mendicant Orders -- from that of the Capuchins, for
instance, whose rule of poverty extends even to the
sanctuary.

Such in brief outline is the Eucharistic tradition of
Carmel; with Elias we walk in the strength of that
divine bread and since we would draw near to the life
of God in prayer, we must be ever mindful of the
Saviour's command, "Unless you eat the Flesh of the Son
of Man and drink His Blood, you cannot have life in
you." Just as the communion of Elias in the miraculous
bread of the desert led him in his journey to the
contemplation of God on Horeb, so too, the Holy
Eucharist must lead us to the contemplation of His Holy
Face. In the caves of Horeb God spoke to the Prophet by
the voice of the gentle, whispering wind. The Lord was
not in the storm nor in the earthquake, but in the
gentle wind. So after Communion we must contemplate
under the Eucharistic species and in the depths of our
spirit; for now God passes.

Vision of the Mother of God Governing Carmel's Life of
Prayer

Special attention must be called to the vision of Elias
on Carmel. This vision is the foundation of the Marian
character of Carmelite spirituality.

It was on Carmel's summit that the Prophet after
sevenfold prayer saw a little cloud-bearer of the rain
which would deliver the parched earth. It is not
necessary to give an authentic explanation of this
vision. Still I may say that many commentators of the
Holy Scriptures have seen in this cloud a prototype of
the Holy Virgin, who bore in her womb the Redeemer of
the world. It is not the first time that a cloud was
used as a symbol. In the wilderness a cloud covering
the Ark of the Covenant was the sign of the presence of
God. Numerous circumstances in which this type of cloud
is mentioned are applied to God's descent on earth and
His dwelling among the sons of men. From the
circumstances in which the Prophet, after his sevenfold
prayer, saw the cloud rise above the sea, we may
conclude that to see in it a prototype of the Mother of
God -- a type of the mystery of the Incarnation --
would be in entire agreement with the prototypal
character of the Old Testament; the more so, since Holy
Scripture expressly mentions this vision in the life of
a prophet who would be raised to such a high degree of
contemplation. At all events this much is sure-and this
settles the question for the definition of the guiding
principles of the Carmelite life of prayer that in the
Order this vision of Elias has always been seen as a
prototype of the Mystery of the Incarnation and a
distant veneration of the Mother of God. And it was
because of this belief, according to the tradition of
Carmel, that the old sanctuary dedicated to the Holy
Maid was built on the mountain in the midst of the
hermits' caves. In the devotion of the Order, in the
school of Carmel, this vision has its own place, and it
has been looked upon for ages as the favourite image by
which the Order looks to her. We need only read the
Canonical Hours of the Feast of Our Lady of Mount
Carmel to see the importance of this vision for the
spiritual life of Carmel. In a special lecture we will
say more about the Marian character of Carmelite
spirituality.

Harmony of Intellectual and Affective Prayer -- Happy
Mean

Finally, we must note the providential combination of
the two great visions of the Prophet on Carmel and on
Horeb. These two visions are intimately connected. The
last is the crown of the first and supplies what was
not yet given in the first. While we admire Elias as he
soars aloft in contemplation on Carmel, we must not
forget that he had a human side as well and on this
side he is accessible to the very least among us. He
had called down fire on Carmel and rain on the parched
land, yet Jezabel, unrelenting in her evil, held Achab
and his people in her thrall. She was all powerful and
eager for revenge. And Elias, overcome with fear and
disappointment, poured out all the misery of his soul
to God: "It is enough, Lord, I pray You, take away my
life." In this connection we can hardly exaggerate the
profound importance of God's revelation to Elias on
Horeb. We should like to remark that the vision of
Elias on Carmel bears the character of an enlightenment
of the mind, an intellectual revelation, the disclosing
of a mystery, the mystery of the Incarnation. It is
true that in this vision on Carmel there is not wanting
a certain affection or attraction of the will, for we
see the Prophet, under its impulse, borne before Achab
to the capital town of Samaria. But this attraction,
this affection of will, is of little importance in this
vision. Above all, it is the communication of a
mystery. In the vision of Horeb, however, the Prophet
felt the spirit of God. The first vision was, in the
strict sense of the term, intellectual, the second the
breathing of the spirit of God. The latter completes
the former. After the first, the Prophet, even though
his mind was illumined from on high, was still subject
to weakness and despondency, and prayed that he might
die. In the second, he is strengthened and consoled and
at peace. These visions are intimately connected. So in
the school of Carmel there is harmony between the
intellectual illumination of the mind and the affective
love of the heart.

While the schools of St. Bernard and St. Francis are
schools of love, seraphic love, and the Dominican,
intellectual, the school of Carmel achieves a happy
mean, a harmony of both. Surely those who dwell in
Carmel would have caught from the flame a spark of the
love and zeal which burned in the great Prophet. Fire
is the most expressive symbol of love. "I am come to
cast fire on the earth." It is this fire which
enveloped Elias when, according to the witness of
Scripture, he was taken up to heaven in a fiery
chariot. Wrapped in that seraphic flame he is taken
from earth. Carmel must ever feel that glow of its
founder's zeal. It is the mark of the true follower of
Elias. It burns in all Carmelite saints. Especially do
we see it in the soul of seraphic St. Teresa of Avila.
The smouldering fires that burned in the soul of "this
undaunted daughter of desires" is Carmel's greatest
witness to the spirit of Elias. In these great souls
have been fulfilled the Prophet's words which encircle
the Order's escutcheon "With zeal I have been zealous
for the Lord God of Hosts."

But the school of Carmel warns us, in its leading
figures, even in the Prophet Elias, that we must never
forget the great importance of the intellectual
foundation of the contemplative life: the enlightenment
of the mind, the exercise of all mental faculties. By
the imaginative and intellectual meditation and
contemplation we have to climb to the affection of love
and to be set in fire and flame. Even the Mystical
Doctor -- as we shall see later in a following lecture
-- recalls the necessity of imaginative and
intellectual meditation, because we cannot always soar
into the higher regions of mystical life. And St.
Teresa, insisting on the affection of love, leads her
sisters on the way of imaginative and intellectual
vision and meditation.

We should like to speak also about the apostolic
character of the life of the great prophet, but his
position in the Old Testament is clear enough to
illustrate the zealous apostolic spirit by which he was
led. Following this spirit also Carmelite life has
always been apostolic. We will see in the next lecture
and especially in the last the apostolic character of
Carmelite spirituality. We mention this apostolate here
to indicate that also in this life the life of the
prophet of Carmel was stimulating and inspiring even to
the highest ideal of the apostolate.

The Deep-Red Rose Clustering Over Carmel Symbolic of
Elias

In conclusion, we should like to see the great Prophet
Elias in Carmel's garden like a red rose, and not only
the great Prophet but also those who follow him,
climbing (symbol of the exercise of virtue) along the
mountain, through the caves and grottos of Carmel,
interlacing it with a girdle of fire. These red roses
are the symbol of ardent love that burns in Elias and
his disciples. It is the most remarkable characteristic
of their spiritual life. It is the fire by which, like
the Prophet and St. Teresa of Avila, the disciples
became seraphim. Yet, we choose that symbol of the rose
-- the deep-red rambler-rose. I see it spreading over
the whole mountain and setting it all aflame. The last
flower we shall gather during these lectures in the
garden of Carmel will be none other than the rose that
bloomed in our own times and which trails around the
mountain. That last flower will be the "Little Flower"
who, shedding her petals far and wide, has developed to
the utmost the symbol of the red rose.

May you all be like the red rambler-roses climbing
along Carmel, burning in the fire of love like our
great exemplar, Elias, scattering the petals of the
flowers of your virtue, like the Little Flower, over
those who live with you.

THE HERMITS OF CARMEL

Carmelite Crusaders

ACCORDING to the travel story of the Greek monk,
Phocas, St. Berthold, "a monk white with age and
invested with priestly dignity, came to Carmel in 1155,
built a small chapel and collected ten brothers." He
did not, however, give them a Rule, being unwilling to
interfere with the customs of the hermits which among
them had the force of an unwritten law. It is difficult
to determine in what these customs consisted; we may
see, however, a broad outline in two documents which
doubtless embody these customs. The first is the Rule
drawn up by St. Albert, Patriarch of Jerusalem (fifty
years afterwards), and given to St. Brocard, the
successor of St. Berthold. It begins by declaring that
it is building on foundations already laid and declares
as its object the setting down in writing of traditions
of life already long established. The second document
is the already-mentioned Institutio Primorum
Monachorum, which is a summary of the spirit and
principles of life which obtained among the hermits. It
is not less valuable even though it was written as late
as the 13th century.

Ordering to Contemplative Life in Solitude and
Detachment

These two documents are remarkably alike in spirit and
in the points they emphasize. Both would regard prayer
as the essential life of the Order and they agree in
the provisions they lay down for its preservation. The
ideal they place before the early monks is one of
solitude and detachment from the world, as a condition
and safeguard for the life of prayer. Their dwelling
places are to be in the deserts, apart from the busy
life of the world. These places are recommended as most
fitting to their seclusion, but aloofness from the
world may also be achieved in conditions less remote
from the world's busy life. But the Rule demands that
the cloister must ever be a cloister and its provisions
guarantee that atmosphere of peace and quiet in which
the spirit may commune with God. Each one must have a
separate cell, which the Rule regards as the
individual's own particular sanctuary and others may
not enter except for grave reasons. The cell is
regarded as a place for personal devotion and intimate
prayer. All the constitutions drawn up at different
times have laid definite and particular emphasis on the
cell as the sanctuary of the individual soul. St. Mary
Magdalen de Pazzi used to kiss the walls of her cell,
while she repeated the words ascribed to St. Bernard:
"O blessed solitude, O only salvation," O beata
solitudo, O sola beatitudo. In Carmel there are no
common dormitories and work is not done in common when
it is possible to do it alone. When necessary, there is
a common workshop, but the Rule insists that the work
be done in silence. On the other hand, there are places
where community life prevails. There is a common
refectory and a common room for recreation. With these
exceptions, life is lived as far as possible in the
retirement of the cell. He who would attain to holiness
and more fervent communion with God according to the
spirit of Carmel, must love solitude and aloofness from
the world. It is a peculiarity of the Carmelite Order
that although one of the Mendicant Orders, living
amongst people in the world and engaged in active life,
it retains the greatest love for solitude and aloofness
from the world and considers solitude and contemplation
as the better part of its spiritual life.

Necessity of Active Life

But the Order of Carmel is not only contemplative. The
active life of the apostolate is not alien to the
spirit of Carmel. There are times when the priests of
Carmel must engage in the active life of the church;
when God must be forsaken for the sake of God. This was
implied when the Order was given the status of a
Mendicant Order. Henceforth its life must be mixed.
Even the fiercest advocate of the contemplate life,
Father General Nicholas Gallus, successor of St. Simon
Stock, avows in his "Ignea Sagitta" that not only then
(about 1275) but even before that time the hermits of
Carmel, as circumstances demanded, left not only their
cells but their cloisters also and descended from the
mountain to devote themselves to the work of the active
Apostolate. However, this was an exception, since the
rule laid down that "The monks should remain in their
cells or near them, day and night meditating on the law
of the Lord." Maneant singuli in cellulis suis... die
ac nocte in lege Domini meditantes, vel in orationibus
vigilantes, nisi alils lustis occasionibus occupantur,
"unless they are engaged in other legitimate works."

The Dominican and the Carmelite Ideal

In the mystical life, this appears as a contradiction
of the ideal of the Friars Preachers: Contemplata aliis
tradere: which according to the interpretation of St.
Thomas represents the highest ideal of the spiritual
life, the imparting the fruit of contemplation to
others by active life. We must not regard these two
ideals as contradictory. both ways lead to God and from
both the faithful derive the greatest graces. These
different religious ideals only manifest the more the
superabundant variety of the Church's life.

"Mary hath chosen the better part which shall not be
taken from her." So said the Lord to Martha -- Martha
who was troubled with much serving, and who complained
that her sister had left her to serve alone. Holy
Church applies these words to Mary, the Mother of God;
and the Order of Carmel, so dear to its heavenly
Mother, vindicates for itself Mary's part in the
spiritual life of the Church. We may truly say that the
Contemplative Orders have ever had to meet the most
serious hindrances in the life of prayer. Carmel,
notwithstanding, has ever borne witness to the
preeminence of contemplation. Inevitably, in almost all
circumstances of modern life, the active apostolate
makes its great demands on Carmel and then the
Carmelite priests gladly adopt the motto of the
Dominican Friars. They must root this activity deep in
contemplation, for them its only source and warrant of
fruitfulness. When this is necessary, Carmel will be
honoured and blessed by such an apostolate. But it must
never forget that the better part is contemplation-the
active life must always take a second place. The first
hermits of Carmel loved solitude. After the noise and
tumult of battle, they withdrew from the world into the
quiet of Carmel's caves, henceforward to devote their
lives entirely to God. With Elias they had known the
perils of the wilderness and hoped to find God on the
Holy Mountain. But almost immediately we find them
scattering over the world, founding cloisters and
engaging in apostolic work. Nicholas Gallus might
safely say they did it rarely, but they did concern
themselves with work of this kind under the stress of
necessity and it was not regarded as being contrary to
the Rule.

Difficulty of Drawing Dividing Line

It is difficult to say when that necessity arises, but
the Rule does suggest limitations when it speaks of
justa occupatio as a reason for deserting the life of
solitude for a time. There have been times, especially
in the first centuries of the establishment of the
Order in the West, when urgent needs of the Church were
neglected for the sake of the contemplative ideal. At
other times the spirit of contemplation has been lost
in too great activity. The combination of these two
lives has presented a difficult problem even to St.
Teresa, who in her reform finds it difficult to draw a
dividing line. We find St. John of the Cross frequently
leaving his cell to preach the Gospel to the poor. At
the very beginning of the Reform, we find a majority of
the reformed Order considering the work of the missions
so urgent that missioners were sent out to establish
cloisters in the lands where the practice of the
contemplative life was impossible. To those who were
opposed to the missionary work. St. Teresa in her Book
of the Foundation says: "In solitude, some may say
there are fewer occasions for offending God and purity
is more easily kept. But when obedience or charity bids
us run the risk of occasions, love comes out far more
clearly than it does in the recesses of solitude . . .
Believe me, we make much greater gain and that beyond
comparison, even if we commit more faults and suffer
some slight losses" (St. Teresa, Foundations, Chap. V;
Pourrat, 178).

Apostolate of the Contemplative Life

But the principal point to remember is that the school
of Carmel, while rating at its highest the cure of
souls in the world, cannot forget that it is called to
a higher vocation. Elias was called to a life of prayer
in the midst of a life of intense activity, yet he is
one of the greatest Prophets of the Old Testament. His
life and prayer tell us that his prayer was the
strength of his life. so the contemplative prayer of
the Carmelite is also the strength of the active
apostolate. The influence of the contemplative soul is
not withheld from the apostolate. In the mystical Body
of Christ -- we shall see that more clearly in the last
lecture -- the prayers and sacrifices of the
contemplatives represent an organ of high value. So
there is no opposition of the contemplative life to the
active. The former is the great support of the latter.
The mystical life is in the highest sense apostolic.
Without activity it has the greatest influence. St.
Teresa of Avila, St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi and
especially the little St. Therese of Lisieux teach us
the apostolate of prayer. Many Carmels are considered
the real centres of missionary work, not because of
their activity but because of their contemplative life.

Love for Mystic Life Characteristic

It is remarkable that even in the first century of the
foundation of the Order in the West we find the mystic
life, as already explained, very clearly outlined and
with it this distinction. Carmel thus takes her own
peculiar place in the Church. Perhaps we may see in
this special grace which the Order received in view of
its mystical life, an affirmation of its vocation. The
Order is privileged to honour as a model and example
the great Prophet of the Old Testament and to regard
his life as the expression of the life lived in
Carmel's school. Upon this model Carmel built its own
school which sees in contemplation the highest ideal.
"All of us who wear the holy habit of Mount Carmel are
called to prayer and contemplation; there is the place
of our first institution, we belong to the race of the
holy Fathers of Mount Carmel who in such deep solitude
and in such entire contempt of the world, sought for
the treasure, the precious pearl of which we are
speaking. And nevertheless, I declare to you that very
few among us prepare themselves to see the Saviour
reveal it to them" (Interior Castle, Fifth Mansion,
Chap. I).

The Mater Spiritualium and the Doctor Mysticus, St.
Teresa and St. John of the Cross, are the great masters
in the spiritual life of this school. They are the
great examples of Carmel's mystic life and the most
widely known. But beside these great outstanding
personages, there is such a large body of mystical
writers, men and women, that Carmel takes a front rank
among the writers and leaders of spiritual life. The
ancient history of the Order shows us that this special
election to the mystical life revealed itself from the
beginning and was the constant ideal of the Order long
before St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross
accomplished the reform which brought contemplation
into such prominence.

Double End of Contemplative Life: Ascetical and
Mystical

In this school the mystic life properly so called is
without reserve a pure gift of God. None-the-less, it
is set forth as the aim of Carmelite life, as the glory
with which God may crown our lives here below. This
carries with it the implication that Carmelite
spirituality must be concerned to produce these exalted
dispositions of soul with which alone this free gift of
God is compatible. It is true, however, that no
dispositions, however perfect, may demand this gift as
a right. It ever remains a free gift of God. On this
particular aspect of the mystical life, there has been
much discussion among the theologians and it is closely
connected with the question, which has been answered in
different ways, as to a special election or vocation to
the mystical life. On this question we have widely
differing opinions. Some lay great stress on the
mystical life as a special gift from God and as such
not the object of vocation. Others go further and say
we may not even desire such a grace, nor pray to obtain
it. In such a view there can be no preparation for the
mystical state, nor any question of suitable
dispositions; and although this school admits of
"receptivity," still it declares that this receptivity
weighs as nothing in the balance because God grants His
gifts as He wills, nor can human effort increase or
augment that receptivity. This is the school of the
Oratio Infusa, in which the principal emphasis is on
the mystical grace as a free gift. Holding a contrary
position is the school of the Oratio Acquisita, which
rather puts human activity into the forefront and
sometimes in such terms as to imply that God, Who is
not to be surpassed in generosity, would be obliged to
grant this grace to those who use every effort to make
themselves worthy of it. This grace being the
legitimate crown of the spiritual life, the fact that
it is not granted to all is not a proof that He does
not wish to share it with all men. but only that few
have made themselves worthy of it.

Combination of Oratio Infusa and Acquisita: Happy Mean

The school of Carmel, at least in its representative
members, observes the happy mean between these two
extremes. According to the ancient document concerning
the Order's spirit, the attainment of this high state
of mystical communion is put forward as the aim of all
Carmelites and all are obliged to conform their lives
to this lofty ideal, but at the same time the free
character of the mystical grace is insisted upon. St.
Teresa in her own masterly way describes how the life
of grace is built on natural foundations. The life of
grace even in its highest degree is ingrafted into the
natural and under its impulse the whole human
personality grows to its fullest maturity. She shows
how human nature is created by God with a
"susceptibility" for these exalted states of grace, but
on the other hand the practice of the virtues and the
actived contemplation must precede, accompany and
follow the mystical experience. That is why, after
giving glory to God as the giver of all gifts, she lays
particular emphasis on the practice of prayer and
virtue. May I say how gratifying it is to me to put
before you this idea of the spiritual life of the
Order? It has been the constant tradition of Carmel. We
find it in the beginning. It is the spirituality of the
"Institution of the First Monks." The Carmelite life
has a twofold end. We obtain the first by our toil and
virtuous efforts, aided by divine grace. It consists in
offering to God a holy heart, free from actual stain of
sin-the other is communicated to us by a free gift of
God, ex mero Dei dono, not only after death but even in
this life, and consists in tasting in some way in the
heart and experiencing in the mind the strength of the
Divine presence and the sweetness of the glory from on
high.

Carmel, unlike the children of our day, is not afraid
of the mystical life. The spirit of the Order does not
regard it as doing violence to nature but knows that
nature in the last analysis is destined for such
perfection. Nor is the mystical way the only way. Great
sanctity may be achieved without mystical graces and
favours. This is apparent from the lives of many
saints. It is enough for those on Carmel to live in
God's presence, in loving humility, content with what
the good God may send. Time and place are of little
importance. Sometimes on earth the flower blooms in all
its glory in the garden of God but most often comes
only to bud. But in heaven all God's flowers will open
in the glory of the Sun. If the good God, like a good
gardener, brings some to perfection here, others
hereafter, that is His own mysterious choice

So again let us insist that the school of Carmel
demands preparation, the exercise of the greatest
virtue. Our lives must be ordered, oriented in the
direction of the Order's aim.

Common Way: Characteristic Virtues

In order to appreciate better in what this training
consists, let us consider in brief three points
emphasized by our Rule. The introduction reminds us
that many of the things in the Rule are common to all
who bind themselves by the three vows, to lead a life
of perfection.

Purity

But it brings the Vow of Purity into special
prominence. It is true that in the beginning, the Vow
of Obedience was understood to contain the other two.
Obedience is a virtue that implicitly contains all
others. But among these virtues there is one which has
a particular glory and the Rule singles out that of
Purity to emphasize its excellence. Our service of God
should be characterised, it says, by a pure conscience
and a pure heart. The Order sees as its good exemplar
the Mother of God, the Virgin of Virgins. In the
clothing ceremony of the Carmelites, the white mantle
is put on with the admonition that it should ever be a
reminder of the following of the Lamb without spot.

Recollection

A second point emphasised by the Rule is silence and
recollection as a necessary condition for a life of
prayer. Active recollection, by which we put ourselves
and keep ourselves in the presence of God, has always
been regarded as the essential preparation for
communion with God in the mystic life. Just as the
Prophet did not hear the voice of God in the storm, but
in the gentle breeze, so the heart of the spiritual man
must not be shaken by the storm but must listen for
God's voice in the silence of its own interior. The
constitutions of the Order have always stressed this.
To recover recollection of spirit has ever been the
first step of all reform.

Spiritual Armour

Thirdly, let me remind you of a third chapter of the
Rule, which recalls so vividly the crusading spirit.
That particular chapter is full of the noise of battle.
But it is no longer the battle against the Saracens,
but against a more terrible enemy of the holy land of
our own souls. It bids us buckle on a spiritual armour
of six pieces. The first is the cincture of chastity,
which must be put on in penance and mortification. By
mortification is meant not only corporal penances but
also the bending of our will to the will of God as the
most direct way to purity of heart. In His Will, says
Dante, is our peace. To unite our will with God's means
a continual effort at self-conquest. So the Ritual
speaks of the girdle as a chain which binds us and
causes us to be led by another.

The second piece of spiritual armour, the breastplate,
protects the most vital part of the combatant. Your
breast must be protected with holy thoughts. They must
fill your heart and strengthen it inwardly and defend
it as with impenetrable armour. The cuirass of
righteousness is the third piece we put on. It is
difficult to walk in armour but facility comes with
practice. We must wear our armour as true knights of
Christ, not bring dishonour on our arms. We must wear
our habit with the understanding that it marks us out
as following Him, Who is God.

Then the shield of faith. Only a living faith can
sustain us against attack. Without a living faith, our
vocation is meaningless. Our faith is the source of all
our power. It is the faith which gives us our life's
purpose and direction. Half-faith can accomplish
little. But a living faith is a creative and an
unfailing source of strength and energy.

The fifth piece is the helmet of salvation, symbol of
hope and confidence. The helmet protects the head --
with it we can walk with head erect and no fear can
overcome us.

But armour is to protect us; we need weapons for the
warfare. For a sword we have, sixthly, the word of God.
It must be in our hearts and on our lips. All is to be
done in His name. God's holy name is the watchword
given to us by our Rule.

Through the parable of the two standards, St. Ignatius
taught his disciples to see life in terms of battle;
the following of the great leader for the greatest of
all causes. The same idea is contained in the chapter
of the Rule we have been considering. For if the spirit
of the Order is characterised by modesty and
simplicity, it also inherits the high and spirited
chivalry of the Crusaders. In this there is nothing
harsh and militaristic but it is the gracious gallantry
of the true knight who lays his sword on the altar of
his Lady to undertake in love and simplicity the most
lowly services she may demand.

Carmelites, Busy Bees

James of Vitry has compared the contemplatives of
Carmel to busy bees. Over the great moors they fly in
their quest for honey. Away from the dust and grime of
life, in the cool and open spaces, they collect their
honey-store. For worldlings it is an arid place and
uninviting, but for them the desert blooms as the rose.
In early autumn every little sprig of heather on these
moors puts on its royal livery and the rough places
glow from end to end in the purple symbol of penance.
Deep in those tiny bells the honey lies. Is not this a
perfect image of our lives? All the myriad sprigs, the
simple duties of our daily round, done in the spirit of
love and penance, bloom along the autumn moorland of
our lives. They are rich with honey. So like the busy
fees, let us build up our spiritual store from the
actions of our daily routine.

THE ORDER FLOURISHING IN THE HOLY LAND

Menaced by Mussulmen.

The attempts of the Crusaders to win back the holy
places for the faith were begun with much enthusiasm.
At first their attempts were successful but with the
weakening of the first great impulse, the Arabs
returned to the places from which they had been driven
and only with difficulty were the principal places kept
in the hands of Christians for two centuries.

In the 12th and in the beginning of the 13th century,
the new Order of Friars of the Blessed Mary of Mount
Carmel had spread throughout the Holy Land and Syria.

It is impossible in this short review to give in any
detail the history of the Order in the land of its
origin, but from its rapid growth we may conclude that
its beginnings were characterized by intense spiritual
activity. The holiness of the principal figures stands
out in bold relief and although we know only a few
details of their lives, tradition records the
veneration they inspired.

But difficulties were to come and some of the
monasteries were threatened with extinction. Under the
third General, St. Cyril, troubles increased and
matters went from bad to worse. St. Cyril, a man of
great faith and personal sanctity, saw the breaking of
the storm of persecution. He was not dismayed and it is
recorded that God granted him reassuring visions of Our
Lady of Mount Carmel and of the future triumph of the
Order and of the Church. So despite material ruin and
desolation the Saint could still look with glad
confidence to the Lord and be the support of his
brethren in their time of trial.

Difficult Position.

But with the growing dangers and the ever increasing
attacks of the Mussulmen, such confidence was not easy.
One by one the monasteries were burned and the monks
driven out or murdered. Very soon those Friars, many of
whom had come from the West, were forced to consider
returning to their native land. Some of them had
already departed, for in the beginning of the 13th
century we find foundations of Carmelite Friars in
Cologne and other places. These were composed of the
early fugitives who had been forced to abandon the East
before the General Chapter on Carmel in 1237 finally
decided that it was impossible to remain there.

Marvellous Transplantation of the Order to Europe.

The prophecy of St. Cyril was wonderfully fulfilled. In
a short time, let us say within a space of ten years,
the main body of the Order was transplanted from the
East to the West. How quickly this change was brought
about may be seen from the fact that although the great
Mother House of the Order was still on Carmel -- the
cradle of the Order's most venerable traditions -- it
is at Aylesford in Kent that the General Chapter is
held in 1245. This was the first General Chapter of the
Order held in the West. At that Chapter, a General was
elected who was to have a profound influence on the
development of the Order in the West.

St. Simon Stock Raised Up by Providence.

This was St. Simon Stock. The magnitude of his
achievements places him in the ranks of the great. In
his lifetime the enormous work of adaptation to new
conditions was accomplished and the Order given a form
and direction which needed little alteration during the
succeeding centuries. Providentially, need called him
forth. His accomplishments were such as to demand not
only energy but great sanctity. He was endowed with a
capacity not only for extension but what is more
important, for consolidation. We find him leaving
England to take part in the foundation of cloisters in
Cologne, Haarlem, Brussels and in several of the towns
of France. He made many journeys to consult the Holy
See concerning the affairs of the Order. After a life
which was truly crowded with achievement he died in
1265 at Bordeaux. He had ruled the Order for twenty
years. It is to his lasting merit to have established
discipline and order in that difficult time and to have
inspired an activity which did not do violence to the
life of prayer and the original spirit of the Order.
The adaptation of the Rule sanctioned by Innocent IV
was so perfectly in harmony with the traditional spirit
of Carmel, that St. Teresa accepted it as the
embodiment of the true life of the order. It is this
mitigated Rule and not the earlier one that St. Teresa
uses in her reform. That in itself is a great tribute
to the spiritual genius of St. Simon.

The coming of the Carmelites to Europe at this
particular time was opportune. It was in the beginning
of a new awakening which they were in great measure to
share and influence. They brought with them an original
element in this, that through adopting the status of a
mendicant Order, they yet retained their deeply
contemplative character. It is at this time that the
apostolic character of the mystical life appears more
and more. The example of the great contemplatives
leaving the shelter of their monasteries to preach to
the people is already familiar. Peter of Amiens is a
notable example of this and later St. Bernard. Also the
two great founders of religious Orders, St. Francis and
St. Dominic, were soon to prove that the life of
contemplation does not exclude the active life.

The contemplative element in the tradition of Carmel
increased the difficulties of adaptation to the new
environment. Hoping to pursue their old ideals, their
first hermitages were founded mostly in solitary
places, far from towns. But very soon the active
apostolate called them out of isolation.

Mitigation of Solitude, Abstinence and Poverty.

When St. Simon petitioned Pope Innocent IV for a
mitigation of the original Rule, the Pope appointed as
advisers, two Dominicans, one of whom was the famous
Hugo of St. Cher, the other William, Titular Bishop of
Andorra. Two representatives were also appointed by the
Order. It is probable one of these was Fr. Peter
Swanyngton, the secretary of St. Simon Stock, and the
saint's most trusted friend, whose name is involved in
the history of the holy Scapular. The outcome of these
negotiations was the permission to have their houses in
towns and the admission of the Friars to apostolic
work. Community life remained enjoined in the retaining
of a common refectory and common liturgical prayer.
Although still insisting on the strict observance of
poverty, the Rule was slightly modified in conformity
to the observance of the other Mendicant Orders, but
more in the direction of the Dominican observance than
the Franciscan. No individual may possess property and
the superior may only administer it for the common
good. The Franciscan Rule goes further, in this that
their property is administered for them by others.

Form of Abstinence Discussed.

On the question of abstinence some interesting points
were raised before the final decision was effected.
From the report of the discussions, all were in
agreement of the importance and necessity of abstinence
as an essential of the Rule, but the representatives of
the Order advocated abstinence from wine in place of
abstinence from meat. It seems the same question had
arisen between St. Brocard and St. Albert, Patriarch of
Jerusalem, in the drafting of the original Rule. The
Carmelites confessed a prejudice in favour of
abstinence from wine, as being more in keeping with the
old Testament traditions of the Order. They, as St.
Brocard before them, urged the customs of the
Rechabites and Essenes, the prescriptions for the
Nazarenes and for some of the Prophets of the ancient
law. These ancient sects did not abstain from meat, nor
could they do so, since they were obliged to eat the
Paschal Lamb. St. Albert had chosen the form of
abstinence from meat for his Rule with a qualified
permission in case of grave illness or weak health. He
based his contention on this that just as in the Old
Testament the eating of meat was not forbidden because
of the Paschal Lamb, neither should the drinking of
wine in the New Testament be forbidden because of the
wine of the Holy Eucharist. Still the Friars saw great
difficulties in the practice of this rule. It was
difficult to observe since a too benevolent indulgence
to sickness or ill health might easily lead to laxity
of observance. Abstinence from wine did not seem to
involve such difficulties. Meat was regarded as an
important element in the diet of those engaged in the
active apostolate. But both the Dominican advisers and
the Pope favoured the abstinence from meat and so it
was reaffirmed in the Rule. But the very fact that such
an alternative was proposed is an indication of the
fresh initiative which characterised these early
Fathers of Carmel and especially of their love for
abstinence in a form that could be strictly observed.

Struggle to Maintain Contemplative Life.

The mitigation of the Rule did not accomplish all that
was expected. In theory the double life seems to have
been provided for; in practice, however, after a period
of fervent progress, the active life seemed to destroy
the contemplative. In the succeeding century this
discrepancy gave rise to grave misgivings among the
more contemplative souls. So serious had their doubts
become that Nicholas, the Frenchman, the seventh
General and successor of St. Simon Stock, and
Theodoric, his successor, finding the responsibility
too great, retired from their high office to live lives
of solitaries. Nicholas was a true contemplative and
gave expression to his ideals in language intense and
impassioned. For him contemplation was the high and
inalienable ideal of the Order and he warns his
brethren against the active life. He saw only too well
that many would lose their spirit of union with God by
an activity not always necessary. With deep regret he
saw that many, betrayed by a too absorbing activity,
were wandering far from the spirit of the first Fathers
on Mount Carmel. Yet although this may be true, the
life of many Saints in the Order proves that the true
spirit of the Order could still live and flourish under
the new conditions.

Five Great Figures.

For predominant figures in the history of Carmel in the
West, I need only point to five great saints who
summarise in themselves the Order's life. Three are
from the 13th century and two from the 14th. The great
Saints, Berthold, Brocard and Cyril, are deeply
contemplative souls, as one would expect of those who
dwelt on Carmel. St. Simon Stock stands at the
beginning of the Order's history in the West. In the
13th century, it is Sts. Angelus and Albert; while in
the 14th appear Sts. Andrew Corsini and Peter Thomas.
These are living proofs that the life of Carmel could
still flourish in the West and it is remarkable that
these saints of the West are examples of the perfect
harmony of the active and contemplative life. We are
inclined to judge this transition period by the sharp
denunciations of Nicholas Gallus. But this judgment is
not just, as this period also had its shining stars.

School of St. Simon Stock.

The lives of these Carmelite Saints are a proof that
contemplative and active life can be successfully
combined and can lead to sanctity. They show us that
religious were not unmindful of what constitutes the
great essential character of our life in Carmel. It is
because of this life especially that so many have asked
admission to the Order. We must again emphasise the
predominance of the double spirit in the period of
transition. St. Simon Stock was great enough to be the
founder of a tradition. He was founder of a school and
his spirit continued in his disciples. I would here
state my conviction that St. Teresa was not the founder
of the school of Carmel, as is very often taken for
granted. A study of her life shows that she built on
ancient foundations. Contemporaneous with St. Simon
Stock we find a mystical teaching which is in harmony
with what St. Teresa was afterwards afraid to develop.
It takes in her a more complete form, it is true, due
to the outstanding religious genius of this great
Saint, but it is not essentially new.

One of the great figures on whom St. Simon relied for
the building up of Carmel in the West was Henry de
Hanna or Henry Hane, an Englishman. He was a man who
achieved fame not only in England but also on the
Continent. He was St. Simon's great collaborator, and
his influence was tremendous. In an ancient manuscript
at Oxford, three sermons are preserved which in my
opinion cannot be ascribed to anyone but Henry Hane.
They are in a collection of Sermons of Eckhart and his
school.. In the 13th and 14th centuries, the mysticism
of Eckhart was predominant in the German lands and the
mysticism of Carmel especially in these lands came
under its influence. In his works, however, Henry Hane
avoids the tendency to excessive subtlety which
characterises the works of Eckhart. He ever takes a
middle position between the intellectual school of the
Dominicans and the school of the Franciscans
emphasising more the affective method and the
importance of the will. Just as in the mysticism of St.
John of the Cross, the influence of pseudo-Dionysius,
the Areopagite, is clearly seen, so also in the system
of Hane we find the six degrees of the soul's ascent to
God taken from the same source.

The Six Degrees.

The first degree is the opening of the soul to God:
"Open to me, my beloved," says the Bridegroom in
Solomon's Canticle. The second degree is reached when
God -- and here is meant the Holy Trinity -- draws the
soul up to himself and comes to dwell therein. God is
born in the soul. Quoting from St. Augustine, Hane says
that there is a re-birth when love and desire are
united. The fruit of the Holy Spirit is light, love,
joy and peace. Here there is already a departure from
the intellectualism of Eckhart, in the insistence on
the element of love as the means through which God is
born in us. The third degree is the transformation of
the soul in God. This takes place through the
indwelling of light. In this light the soul sins no
more and the beauty of God is seen in such a way that
the darkness of sin no longer appears. The soul becomes
oblivious of everything which is not God. It walks in
the light as a child of light. Gustate et videte,
"Taste and see": first. the mystical experience of God,
and in its wake-illumination. First light breaks in the
soul and then in this light the soul sees the source of
light. But the soul must have this light before it can
see. In this connection, Hane uses a figure, afterwards
used by St. Teresa. "The soul must not try to fly
before its wings are fledged." It must bear the yoke of
Christ and feel how sweet it is, before it knows who it
is who has laid the yoke upon it.

In the fourth degree God releases enormous energies in
the soul and the natural faculties of the soul are
elevated and become supernatural and deified. In the
effulgence of its new light the soul becomes keenly
aware of its own natural infirmities, but God draws it
above itself and in the realization of its own
infirmities, the soul understands ever more perfectly
the omnipotence of God and His condescending love. In
this way, to use St. Paul's words, the soul goes from
light to light.

In the fifth degree there is complete union of the soul
with God. God takes the form of the soul and the soul
takes the form of God and is transformed in God. The
heavenly light penetrates the soul entirely and in this
heavenly light it sees itself. Air in the light of the
sun appears no longer air but only light.

In the sixth degree not only does the light shine in
the soul, but the soul is wrapped in the light. In the
midst of this effulgence, the soul, like a precious
stone, is pierced through and through with the
brightness of the light and reflects itself in it and
this light beams forth from all its facets. Now it is
all light. The soul becomes translucent and a mirror of
divinity, as Dionysius says of the Angels.

Ideas of Hane Familiar to St. Teresa.

Thus does Hane explain the coming of the Lord into the
soul. He exclaims with St. Paul: "Rejoice, the Lord is
at hand." St. Teresa is in remarkable agreement with
Hane in many of the images which he uses; so much so
that it would seem as if Teresa were familiar with his
works. Like him, she insists in the first instance that
we should open our souls to God. Acknowledging our
sins, we should betake ourselves to God and being
consumed in God, we should be cleansed from our sins
and imperfections and be free to advance to His love.
She also knows the image of the Bridegroom knocking at
the door of our souls and waiting for admission.
Remarkable also is the stress laid on the necessity of
practising the virtues as a preparation, accompaniment
and fruit of mystical life. They have in common the
image of flying before the wings are fledged. By her
also love is emphasised as a means of union with God.
St. Teresa especially loves the image of the sun and
its light and the image of the precious stone, the
diamond, in whose inmost heart the light dwells,
shining forth on all sides. Not only in the deepest
meaning of the metaphorical language is there agreement
but also in the description of the successive degrees
of the mystical life. Henry Hane's description and St.
Teresa's are almost identical. Also it is most
interesting to note how both teach that the
supernatural is built upon natural foundations and that
the supernatural is the development of the natural
potentialities.

Old Tree Flourishing Again.

So we see that the old tree, transplanted to new
ground, maintained its growth. That growth was
influenced, of course, by new conditions but it
survived the storms and winters of its new environment.
By its inner vitality and the care of the Heavenly
Gardener, it struck its roots deep into the new soil.
At times the storms tore off a branch here and there,
and its life was threatened, but the old trunk could
not be destroyed. It put forth new shoots and its
branches spread wider than ever before. And now it
stands, not the least among the noble trees in the
great garden of the Church.

THE BROTHERS OF OUR LADY

Cloud Seen by Elias, Symbol of the Mother of God.

WE have already mentioned the pious tradition in the
Order of Carmel that the Prophet Elias saw in the
little cloud bearing the redeeming rain for the parched
land of Israel a prototype of Our Lady, the Mother of
the Redeemer, a revelation of the mystery of the
Incarnation.

Long before the Order became definitely established
under St. Berthold, there was a sanctuary in honour of
Our Lady on Mount Carmel. This sanctuary became the
centre of the Order in its new form and the first
members of the Order were called after it "the Brothers
of Our Lady of Mount Carmel."

Name, "Brothers of Mary," Inspires to Devotion.

This gave ample scope to their piety and while they
daily hurried to Our Lady's Chapel and before her altar
performed their divine Office and meditation; while
they led their lives of prayer under the very eye of
their heavenly Mother, so to say, their devotion to
Mary became more and more fervent and earnest. It was a
wonderful dispensation of Providence that the first
monastery of the Order should be built round a little
chapel which had long been a centre of devotion to
Mary. That dispensation of Providence enjoined on the
Brothers the devotion to Mary as something intimately
allied to their institution, and the name with which
the neighbouring population called them after this
sanctuary, stamped the former crusaders, who had laid
down their swords on the altar of Mary, as Knights of
Our Lady.

When the second General of the Order, St. Brocard, lay
on his death-bed, he gathered the hermits about him to
address them with some parting words of farewell and
exhortation. The words he spoke to them excited the
Brothers to honour Mary by deeds tried in virtue, "You
are called," he said, "Brothers of Our Lady. Take care
that after my death you prove worthy of that name."
Evidently he had during his life, more especially
during the twenty-five years of his office as General,
always insisted on this. He had even looked to it that
they should remain worthy of that name. His
generalship, therefore, must have especially fortified
and confirmed that devotion in the hearts of his
brethren.

Devotion to Mary Confirmed in Europe.

When Pope Innocent IV admits the Order to the West and
adapts its Rule to fit the changed circumstances, he
retains the name, Order of the Brothers of Our Lady,
and confirms it officially. With the expansion of the
Order in Europe this special devotion to Mary will be
its beloved characteristic, a title of which the
Brothers are proud and which they put forward time and
time again when they have to defend their rights.

Pope and Bishops, even in that first century, affix
indulgences to the use of that name and moreover
endeavor to grant to the Order a distinction by which
it may more easily be recognised. In Northern Europe,
we see this being done by the Bishop of Cologne in
1271.

The tradition of the first Generals was splendidly
maintained by the man of divine election, St. Simon
Stock, who figured so largely in the Order's removal to
Europe. The Order has preserved two fine prayers of his
which he is said to have recited many times each day.
Our Order still recites them daily in imitation of the
Saint. The first is the <Ave Stella Matutina>; the
second is the beautiful <Flos Carmeli>. This latter was
his favourite prayer.

He realised that devotion to Mary was a feature of
highest value to the Order, that the title must render
the Order loved by the People, and that if Our Lady
should confirm the title by special privileges the
future of the Order would be assured. The Pope had
already favoured the Order, but their authority had not
succeeded in breaking entirely the resistance the Order
experienced when settling in Europe. However much the
Saint appreciated the privileges of the Popes, having
recourse again and again to the Holy See, he
nevertheless appealed incessantly to the Holy Virgin
with unswerving faith, convinced that she would not
withhold her special help and protection from the Order
which, with the Pope's approval, was called the Order
of her Brothers and which tried to live in accordance
with this title.

Times were hard. We are told so not only in the life of
St. Simon Stock, but also an account of William de
Sanvico written at the end of the 13th century
emphatically confirms this. Not only the local clergy,
but even the bishops did not realise the necessity of a
new Mendicant Order and did not see in what respects
this Order was distinguished from the Orders already
approved. The foundation of new monasteries in the
various countries was everywhere attended with serious
difficulties. Not only was the Order threatened from
within by the loss of her vital, original power through
the difficulty of attuning itself to new circumstances
and through the increasing demands of the active life,
but from the outside also there were enemies who had to
be taken into account and whose resistance was not so
easily broken, even though the Brothers presented
commendations of the Pope and of Bishops and Prelates
who were kindly disposed towards them.

In that distress the Saint again had recourse to Mary
and his confidence was not betrayed. How could it be
otherwise? In the night of the 16th of July, 1251, Mary
appeared to the General of the Order, who was in
Cambridge at that time. He was kneeling, as was his
wont, far into the night before the statue of Our Lady;
from his lips flowed again the devoutly insistent Flos
Carmeli. He begged privileges for the Order. In answer
to his fervent prayer, Our Lady appeared in the habit
of the Order and pointed to it as a pledge of her
special protection. Whosoever should die in that habit
should not suffer the eternal fire.

This apparition left the Saint enraptured with joy. The
Order's habit, hitherto a token of devotion to Mary,
now became likewise a pledge of her special protection.
The disclosure of this motherly promise in a short time
modified the attitude towards the Order. People vied
with each other to beg the Order's habit, either to
live or to die in it. In receiving the habit of the
Order they secured Our Lady's motherly help in those
times which were so rich in devotion to Mary. A
stronger confirmation of the Marian character of the
Order was hardly imaginable and very soon, therefore,
it was regarded preeminently as the Marian Order.

It is quite certain that the title became more and more
known and recognized, and especially in the
Netherlands, where the stock-title of the Order became
"Our Lady's Brethren." By that name the Carmelites are
usually, nay, nearly always called. This quite
outstanding name of Brothers of Our Lady led to a rapid
extension of the Order, while at the same time many
people living in the world received the habit of the
Order to participate in its privileges. In the Order of
Carmel, the Scapular supplied the whole habit. Hence,
the stamp of Mary was put more and more on the Order.

Our Lady Especially Venerated as Mother of God.

We ought, however, to discuss for a moment the
character of the devotion to Mary. This devotion has
marks and traits of its own in the Order of Carmel.
Whereas in the Order of St. Francis of Assisi Mary's
Immaculate Conception is especially regarded, in our
own Order attention is focused upon Mary as Mother of
God. As such she had already been foreshadowed in the
little cloud above Carmel; as such she was honoured on
Carmel; and as such she has ever been invoked in our
Order. When the first members of the Order looked out
from their high mountain towards the country, their
looks met first of all Nazareth, and this little town
recalled to their minds the coming of the Angel to Mary
and the accomplishment of the mystery of the
Incarnation in the overshadowing of the Holy Ghost. The
contemplation of this mystery has led to a twofold
devotion to Mary, which we had better describe as an
imitation of Mary, gradually deepening into a closer
union with her. We may see the same in the Imitation of
Christ in the 14th and 15th centuries, which matured in
the 16th century into a close union with Christ. One
should not think of the imitation without thinking of
the union, nor of the union without the thought of the
imitation. Both flow into each other, but in one period
the former is more prominent, in another more attention
is paid to the latter. One should rather see both
trends blended together into one harmonious whole.

Mary Before Us as our Example.

The imitation of Mary, the most elevated of all
creatures, set as an example before us by God Himself,
shows Mary as the pattern of all virtues. She is the
mirror in which we should ever watch ourselves, the
Mother whom her children ought to resemble ever more.

A remarkable treatise on this has come down to us in
the collection of old manuscripts of the first part of
our Order's history, collected by the Spanish
Carmelite, Philippus Riboti, and printed in the
beginning of the 16th century. How old this utterance
of devotion towards Mary may be cannot be solved
satisfactorily. At any rate, it is older than the end
of the 14th century, when it already belonged to old
manuscripts. Father Gabriel Wessels ascribes it without
any hesitation to the famous English Carmelite, John
Baconthorpe, who lived in the early part of the 14th
century.

The author gives a brief outline of the Rule of the
Order and concludes that the Carmelite, in order to
observe this Rule, has only to look at the example of
Our Lady. He thinks that our Order is fully entitled to
bear the name, Order of Brothers of Our Lady, seeing
that Mary already practised before us everything that
is prescribed in the Rule. Then he praises her
obedience, purity and apostolic poverty. Just as the
Order's Rule commanded, she had chosen her places of
residence far from the turmoil of the world: in the
loneliness of the little house of Nazareth, in the
solitary cave of Bethlehem, in the poverty of Egypt. As
to the observance of silence, he points out how few
words spoken by Mary have been noted down in the
Scripture. And thus he goes on with his examples.
Sometimes his parallels are somewhat farfetched, but on
the whole his explanations are in keeping with the
words and intentions of the Rule. All these facts of
Mary's life are pictured to the Carmelite in order to
show him how he follows Mary's life closely by
observing his Rule.

Mary in Us as Living Through Us.

There is, however, yet another profounder idea in the
devotion to Mary on Carmel. It is based on the former
indeed, and we cannot say that it was unknown in the
first stages of our Order's history, even though it was
more prominent in later times. I have called it the
union with Mary. If we wish to conform ourselves to
Mary in order to enjoy more fully the intercourse with
God, by following her example, we should obviously be
other Marys. We ought to let Mary live in us. Mary
should not stand outside the Carmelite, but he should
live a life so similar to Mary that he should live
with, in, through, and for Mary.

Even in the Middle Ages, in the first period of the
Order's history, the idea was propagated that we should
be serfs of Mary; in those days, even a stronger term,
"slave," was used. In the 18th century, Blessed
Grignion de Montfort drew attention again to this most
vigorous Marian devotion. He wrote a work on True
Devotion to Mary but it remained hidden during his
lifetime and even for years after his death. It was not
until 1842 that it was discovered, published and spread
to all countries. It is a glorious utterance of Marian
life. However, it is not new. Not only did the idea
exist even in the Middle Ages, but also in later times
it was brilliantly elaborated in the mystic school of
Carmel. The admirers of the True Devotion to Mary by
Blessed Grignion de Montfort admit willingly that the
Saint had a remarkable prototype in the mystic writings
of one of the dominant figures of later Carmelite
mysticism, the Provincial of the Dutch Calced
Carmelites, Michael of St. Augustine (Ballaert), in the
middle of the 17th century. His treatise on Devotion to
Mary was printed two years before Blessed Grignion de
Montfort was born and was reprinted during the latter's
life in Latin and Dutch.

As he sees in Mary the Mediatrix of all graces, he says
that just as the grace of God or of the Holy Ghost,
communicated to those who are susceptible of it, makes
them active and excites divine life in them, so all
graces, received through Mary and the spirit of Mary,
will excite in us a truly Marian life. He wants the
spirit of Mary to dwell in us so that we all may live
in that spirit. As we should live in God, work and
labour in Him, live and die in Him, so we can live in
Mary because of the intimate union of Mary with God and
because of her election to the office of Mediatrix of
all graces.

Carmelite Another Mary.

However beautiful the description of the devotion to
Mary in the works of Fr. Michael of St. Augustine may
be, there is yet another representation of that
devotion living in the tradition of Carmel, which in
the above-mentioned work is indeed touched upon but not
elaborated. Still, in order to sound the deepest depths
of the school of Carmel, it is necessary to see its
characteristic features. We should attain similarity to
Mary, especially in that we recognise her as the
highest perfection which human power by the grace of
God has attained. This perfection can also be developed
in us to a considerable extent, if we reflect ourselves
in Mary and unite ourselves to her. This ought to be
the aim of our devotion to Mary, that we be another
mother of God, that God should be conceived in us also,
and brought forth by us. The mystery of the Incarnation
has revealed to us how valuable man is to God, how
intimately God wants to be united to man. This mystery
draws the attention of our minds to the eternal birth
of the Son from the Father as the deepest reason for
this mystery of Love. In the celebration of the three
Holy Masses on Christmas, the birth from the Father is
first celebrated, secondly from the Holy Virgin Mary,
thirdly God's birth in ourselves. This is not done
without significance and this threefold birth must be
understood to be a revelation of one eternal Love. It
should be ever Christmas to us and we should always
remember that threefold birth as phases of one great
process of love. Mary is the daughter of God the
Father, Mother of God the Son and Spouse of God the
Holy Ghost. In her that threefold birth has been
realised. We also have been chosen by the Holy Trinity
for a dwelling, to share the privileges which we admire
in Mary, but which God is willing to bestow on us also.
Seen in this way, I should like to say that "the
mystery of the Incarnation is another summary of
Carmelite mysticism, Carmelite spiritual life."

Sunflowers in the Garden of Carmel.

The devotion to Mary is one of the most delightful
flowers in Carmel's garden. I should like to call it a
sunflower. This flower rises up high above the other
flowers. Borne aloft on a tall stem, rich in green
leaves, the flower is raised yet higher from among the
green foliage.

It is characteristic of this flower to turn itself
towards the sun and moreover it is an image of the sun.
It is a simple flower; it can grow in all gardens and
it is an ornament to all. It is tall and firm and has
deep roots like a tree. In the same way, no devotion is
firmer than that to Mary. The fresh foliage, the green
leaves point to the abundance of virtues, with which
the devotion to Mary is surrounded. The flower itself
represents the soul created after God's image in order
to absorb the sunlight of God's bounty. Two suns
shining into each other, one radiant with an
unfathomable light, the other absorbing that light,
basking in that light and glowing like another sun, but
so enraptured by the beams of the Sun which shines on
it, that it cannot turn itself away from Him, but can
only live for Him and through Him. Such a flower was
Mary. Like her, so may we, flowers from her seed, raise
our flower-buds to the Sun, Who infused Himself into
her, and will transmit to us also the beams of His
light and warmth.

A NEW DAWN. THE CARMELITE NUNS. BL. JOHN SORETH.

Foundation of Carmelite Nuns Increasing Number of
Contemplatives

The Benedictine Abbot, Trithemius, calls Blessed John
Soreth, "a mirror of monastic life, an honour and glory
for the Order of Mount Carmel, a reformer such as the
future will seldom see, absolutely bound to God and the
furthering of his Order, in contemplation and prayer."

The Dominican, Magister Rolandus Briso, praises him at
his election as General, 1451, as the most worthy
priest of God's church, and Father Brugman, a
Franciscan, although loving his own Order, exclaimed:
"Father Soreth, firm leader, light and prop not only
for his own Order but for all mendicants. O immortal
God, how I wish the Order of Friars Minors had received
from Thy bounty such a governor. How our affairs would
prosper, how my beloved Order would grow and flourish."

Indeed, he was God's man for our Order in this
difficult age, and above all things, elected to give
life to so elevated an institution as the Order of
Carmelite Sisters. St. Teresa says that God always
grants special grace to the founders of an Order. They
have to give so much that unless they themselves have
richness and affluence of spiritual goods, they cannot
share with those whom they have to lead and support.

Was there still another intention, besides that of
letting a new group of souls partake in all the
gracious privileges of the Order of Mount Carmel? I
will have to answer this question in the negative and
history confirms my statement. No, the object was not
merely to swell the numbers, but to let thousands of
women share in what thousands of men enjoyed in the
Order.

It cannot be denied that through contact with the world
the Order had lost much of its original fervour, in
spite of having as its head a man who had no peer in
his age and in spite of the fact that the Order
numbered among its ranks several hidden saints, whose
holiness time has revealed and the Church confirmed.
Portugal had a Blessed Nonius, the father of the royal
house of Braganza, who became a lay brother in the
Carmel of Lisbon. Italy had an Angelus Augustinus
Mazzinghi, the chief instrument of the Italian
reformation; a Blessed Bartholomaeus Fanti and a
Blessed Baptista Mantuanus, chief actors in another
North-Italian reformation; the blessed Avertanus and
Romaeus, pious pilgrims dying on the way from home and
revered as saints in Luca; Blessed Jacobinus, a lay
brother, a miraculous example of obedience. But the
list would grow to an inordinate length if I called to
mind the names of all those of this age whose memory is
blessed for the sanctity of their lives.

We may say that on the one hand the sanctity of many of
its members earned for the Order new graces and favours
from God: on the other, that the institution of the
Sisters was a free and entirely voluntary gift
conferred by God on the Order. Blessed John Soreth put
a high value on this institution as the Sisters through
their stricter contemplative life could supply in the
Order what the Fathers, because of their growing
activity in the world, not precisely forgot, but put
more or less into the background, in spite of the fact
that it was a salient characteristic of the Order.

Not only was the Community of the Order increased by
the access of new members, so essential to its being,
but the mystical God-bound life received at once a
great number of new aspirants to its delights. A large
number of saintly women joined the Fathers to emphasize
yet more the contemplative element in the Carmelite
vocation. Yet we should not conclude that by this
displacement the Fathers left contemplation and its
joys to the sisters entirely -- the life of the Bl.
John Soreth himself shows the contrary. As before, the
contemplation of the Law of God remained the chief aim
of the Order, but there is no room for doubt that the
increasing active life often left the Fathers little
time to devote to contemplation and the fullness of a
mystic life and that it distracted them from this high
ideal.

The institution of the Carmelite Sisters as a second
Order in an organization that from then onwards should
contain both men and women gave the assurance that the
first and highest aim of the Order was henceforth to be
worthily striven after. The Sisters were not only
called upon to supply what the Fathers in the stress
and trouble of pastoral duties in the world were likely
to forget, but they are called upon to do even more.
Their service was to strengthen and confirm the
mystical character, to make it more brilliant than
ever.

Being much stricter in their seclusion from the world,
they could easily occupy themselves with more intensity
with God and God accordingly rewarded their
intercessory efforts. They were, so to speak, the crown
and glory of the Order. They proved that the most
blessed thing on this earth, the contemplation of God,
was again Carmel's own. They were an untiring group of
women who considered it their vocation to be a Mary in
the solitude of their convent, a Mary who chose the
better part, which should not be taken from her.

Thus, not only was a formidable shortcoming made good,
a telling want filled, but there was also a positive
gain to be set down because the Order now again
fulfilled its calling in the greater part of its
members. It is best to try to see all things in a
positive light and the surety of the attainment of its
set purpose, be it only in a restricted number of its
members, must be called an inestimable gain.

So we welcome the Carmelite Sisters of Geldern and of
all convents that came after, with unmitigated joy. We
see with our mind's eye the interminable procession of
Sisters as so many fellow soldiers, and successful
ones, for the ideal of our Order. Together we feel
stronger and safer; with them we may go through the
world sharing the same ideal. Generally, the Fathers
are called upon to keep the memory of this ideal green
in the souls and hearts of the Sisters; conversely, the
example of the Sisters will stimulate the Fathers to a
more complete striving after their mutual ideal. When
Holy Scripture says that brother aided by brother is
strong, like a fortified town, how strong is the Order,
how strong the brothers, now that they see at their
side, since the founding of Geldern, this numberless
host of Sisters. It is as if the vision of the prophet
Eliseus displays itself before my eyes, as if I see the
Order surrounded and enclosed by a numberless armed
host who banish the fear from my heart that the spirit
of this world will one day drag them down.

Frances d'Amboise and Her House. Example of
Observance.

The convent of Geldern did not long remain the only
one. The foundation of many convents and religious
houses in Belgium, in the Northern provinces of Holland
and the Northern part of France followed after. A
little later they sprang up in Italy and Spain as well.
A very favourable circumstance, such as Our Lord often
allows to happen at the beginning of an Order, occurred
in the north of France. It was the entrance into the
Order of a saint who drew much attention to the new
Order and made it known in wider circles. I refer to
Frances d'Amboise, Duchess of Brittany, who scorned all
earthly love after the early death of her husband, and
completely dedicated herself to Our Lord. God had
intended the ways of Blessed John Soreth and Frances
d'Amboise to cross and the two saintly souls at once
understood each other. Notwithstanding all opposition,
even of the royal house, Frances entered the Order and
received the veil at the hands of John Soreth. Her
example attracted many followers and soon the community
where she had been received had grown so large that a
second house had to be founded. This house, Les Couets,
near Nantes, came under her direction only because the
Pope commanded her under Obedience -- on no other
account could she be moved to accept the leadership.
Under her direction this place became known for its
heroic virtue and God rewarded it by many a mystical
experience. For long years it was looked upon as the
prototype of Carmelite convents. Not only during her
lifetime, but many years after, it maintained its
splendid reputation. When in later times St. Teresa,
contemplating a stricter observance of her Rule, as she
writes in one of her books, thought of going to a
convent in the North where the Rule was better observed
and which flourished in an exceptional way, it is
thought that she meant the convent of Nantes, set on
this path of virtue by Blessed Frances d'Amboise.

Explanation of the Rule. Solitude in Interior and
Exterior Cell.

Blessed John Soreth, also wrote, as an aid to his
attempts at reformation, an exposition of the Rule
after its new mitigation in 1431. It is worthy of note
that BI. John Soreth founded the Carmelite Nuns under
this mitigated Rule and that the observance of this
Rule brought the Sisters to the highest heights of
mystical life and the greatest perfection. We can in
some chapters see what was foremost in his mind when he
founded the Carmelite Nuns. It strikes us at once that
he is lavish in his praise of solitude and the high
value in sanctifying the appointed cell. He makes a
play on the Latin word, coelum, and points out how the
fervent intercourse with God in the silent cell is
found to life the mind to God. But he at once
distinguishes between an internal and an external cell.
The latter is the means of communing as much as
possible with God; to know Him as present. Besides he
indicates that the cell must be a positive good, not
only to keep us tree from the world and its
shortcomings, but above all to bring us nearer to God,
to give us peace and quiet of heart and total
surrender.

Threefold Subject of Meditation.

This treatment of contemplation, to which the life in
the cell must be primarily devoted, is especially
noteworthy. He distinguishes a threefold meditation and
calls special attention to all three forms.

In the first place, he proposes the admiration of
Nature, then the reading of the Sacred Scriptures and
finally an introspection of our own lives. These three
kinds of contemplation he does not regard as
necessarily connected but rather as subjects deserving
a separate treatment in various hours of meditation.
Only now and then they will have to be retarded in
their relation to each other.

Admiration for the wonderful works of God is the very
first thing to which he calls our attention. If we call
up these feelings of admiration, the question as to the
secret designs of God, why He created all this, forces
itself upon our minds and from this problem we shall
deduct and understand the intention and the meaning of
all creation.

Six Steps of Meditation on Holy Scripture and Books.

The second form of meditation is reading the Sacred
Scriptures and spiritual books. Here as well, he
distinguishes various steps by which we can mount
upwards: (1) Primarily we must read to get to know
truth and to extend our knowledge of heavenly things.
Love for this knowledge must urge us to take up Holy
Writ and edifying books. (2) Not only must we read to
know, we must let ourselves be caught by truth, we must
invite it to work its influence upon our minds by
mentally pondering the words. Only then will our
reading be not a barren knowledge but a power to lift
us up and support us. (3) Truth should not be something
that only illumines our mind and satisfies our craving
for knowledge; it should be a motive power lifting us
above ourselves, not keeping us shut up in our own
minds. (4) The fourth step is not to remain inactive,
but to turn that which we have read over and over in
our minds, to combine it with what has been read or
heard before, that it may grow into a living whole,
giving a certain direction to our acts. (5) After we
have assimilated it, we must again make it the subject
of our contemplation so as to find joy in the
possession of truth. (8) This contemplation should
vivify our love for God's laws, should deepen our sense
of that same law and our sense of God's grace, so that
we may be inclined to do those things that, though not
obligatory, yet tend to God's honour and glory and
which we ought to do if we truly love God.

This love for the divine law and the glory of God will
in the end bridle our passions and, ever freer and less
hampered by our evil inclinations, we shall cleave to
God and serve only Him.

Six Steps of Meditation on Ourselves.

The third form of meditation, the inspection of our own
life, also calls for a six-fold explanation.

It has, to start with, always a double aspect, an inner
and outer way of approach. We must keep our conscience
spotless so that we always can account for our acts
before God. Yet externally we must ever think of
leading an exemplary life in the eyes of our
neighbours. We have been placed here among our brethren
by God to strive together toward the high ideals which
He placed before our mind's eye but unless we guard
jealously the purity of our conscience, we cannot
gather merits internally.

The second point is a most perfect knowledge of
ourselves. We must not only know what we are doing but
we must also account for the motives which prompt our
deeds, the inclinations to which we are subject when
acting and try to find out where they are able to lead
us. Secret inclinations are to be revealed before our
own minds and above all the end to which they tend
should be distinguished. This knowledge of ourselves,
of our deepest being, though it is difficult, is
absolutely necessary.

This will give, in the third place, a fixed direction
to our life and show us the road along which we can
most easily make progress. Our successes, as well as
our defeats, should be subjects of meditation, so as to
evolve at the end the most perfect schemes for success
in the campaign of life What we intend to do should not
be left to the inspiration of the moment but our whole
life should be planned beforehand in such a way that we
are sure of victory. Many people work and labour and
achieve many things which perhaps appear meritorious in
the sight of others, whereas they are not keen on
searching out what is asked of them for their own
welfare and improvement.

A fourth introspection makes us see over and over again
what we have undertaken in choosing this life which we
live by our vows and by the orders of our superiors.
The obligatory acts should always have precedence over
such deeds as we perform of our own free will.
Naturally we should not restrict ourselves to meeting
only the obligations; charity should urge us to go
beyond this; but never should such free acts be
undertaken at the cost of duty.

The fifth point is more or less a warning. It goes
without saying that in those meditations which are the
result of the review of our life we should neither
undervalue ourselves so that we too easily despair of
attaining our goal, nor overrate ourselves and attempt
too much. There are hazards on both sides and we are to
keep on the middle of the road.

Blessed John Soreth concludes with a sixth
consideration which forces us to shut our eyes to
everything except what the moment demands, so that we
may not break off what we are doing under the pretext
of doing some other good work.

Methodical Spiritual Life.

From what I cited here from the exposition on the Rule,
it is evident that BI. John Soreth had a very
systematic way of practising virtue and using prayer;
this is in perfect keeping with the time in which he
lived and the school which he represented. The question
has been raised whether St. Teresa in her wonderful
writings about the Way of Perfection and the Interior
Castle has not undergone in some degree the influence
of the Dutch school of the Devotio Moderna which brings
methodical prayer and systematic practice of virtue
strongly to the fore in its Exercitia. I am inclined to
see some influence but should like to look farther than
the works of Thomas a Kempis, Zerboldt van Zutphen and
Garcia de Cisneros and look to BI. John Soreth and the
influence which he has had in the Order. His mysticism
is doubtless very firmly bound up with that of the
Devotio Moderna. He lays great stress on active
holiness and the exercise of virtues and in this he
proves himself a child of his time and of the country
in which he laboured for the benefit of the Order. But
in this case, the connection which is found between the
demand for a more methodical mode of prayer and the
school of St. Teresa is at the same time an indication
that St. Teresa built on the foundations of John
Soreth, on what he had stressed so particularly in his
reformation and his institution of the Carmelite
Sisters.

Position of Prayer in Life.

He inserts a whole chapter to recommend both the
practice of virtue as well as the preparation for
prayer, followed by the practice of prayer. He speaks
of a very slow and deliberate raising up of the
building of our spiritual life and of the lasting
influence of its foundations. He rejects the idea that
the hours of prayer should be like oases in the desert
of life but affirms strongly that prayer should be
woven into our lives, grafted into it, so that our
prayer is proof of our life and conversely our life
proves the sincerity of our prayer. Before we begin to
pray, we should first get into such a mental state as
we should wish to be found in while praying. Therefore,
the Rule says that we are first to contemplate the Laws
of God and our own life in order to obtain the required
state before beginning to pray. That which is to
dominate our prayer should first be evoked by
meditation. Speaking later about the spiritual armour,
he reverts to this image. He points to David, who had
to take off the armour which Saul had given him because
he had not practised in it. That is the reason, he
says, why our Rule demands a never-ending activity,
both of body and soul. We must exercise all our
faculties and in this connection he points out to us
the two sublime examples which should be ever in the
mind of a perfect Carmelite; Our Lady and Elias the
Prophet.

The Precious Pearl.

Blessed John Soreth compares the practice of the Rule,
in the section about the weekly chapter, with the
precious pearl of the gospel which keeps its value in
spite of its being despised by some. The wise merchant
sells everything he possesses in order to buy the field
in which the treasure is hidden. Then the treasure must
be dug for. I should like to apply this image here, to
explain how we are to draw ever farther back into
ourselves to find Christ and live with Him. BI. John
Soreth has made the Rule known to us like the pearl of
the Gospels and has taught us to sell everything to
obtain it, but at the same time he has taught us how to
dig up the treasure by living a life of the greatest
possible piety. Therefore, this life has to be aided,
borne upward and nourished through a never flagging
exercise of virtue. In the shining of these virtues the
glory of the pearl will be set off.

ST. TERESA. THE GROWTH OF THE MYSTICAL LIFE.

The Doctrine of St. Teresa.

On the occasion of the third centenary of St. Teresa's
passing to the heavenly life, the General of the
Jesuits, Father Martin, at that time professor at
Salamanca, gave a really magnificent eulogy, not only
to glorify the great saint of Avila, the glory and
praise of Spain, but also to classify her doctrine.
This speech has been translated into several languages.
In the German translation it is called: "An elaborated
treatise of the mystic doctrine of St. Teresa and at
the same time a charming picture of a great soul." That
eulogy is inserted in the new edition of the standard
work on the life of St. Teresa, Ribera's Vida de Santa
Teresa de Jesus, edited at Barcelona in 1908, as an
introduction to the mystical life and the mystical
doctrine of the saint. In his opinion the first three
mansions of the Interior Castle are of a more ascetic
character. Then he paints the last four degrees of the
mystical life in the following words: "In the prayer of
recollection, by the gentle invitation of the Divine
Shepherd, the powers or faculties feel themselves
drawn, as it were, to the very centre of the soul; in
this state they can and must answer to that divine
call; in the prayer of quiet they are elevated to the
Lord and so great is the enjoyment they taste in the
presence of their Beloved, that they are elevated to an
ecstatic state by which their natural activity is
stunned. This union with God makes the soul sleep the
sleep of peace and love and, brought into that state,
it is no longer able to think of any means to tear
itself from this mystical suspension and dissolution in
God. The soul thus dissolved in God dies to the world
and to itself in the spiritual marriage which is
celebrated in the sixth mansion and in the seventh
mansion it rises to a new life. In this state it
devotes itself fully to the services of its heavenly
Bridegroom with Whom it is united with an unbreakable
tie of love." Let us explain these four degrees a
little more.

The Law Four Degrees of the Mystical Life.

First, in the fourth mansion of the Castle, St. Teresa
speaks of recollection, of the necessity of finding God
in the centre of the soul: God Who dwells in us. A most
perfect union with Him must be attained. For St.
Teresa, that recollection leads to a state of quiet and
satisfaction, of enthrallment by that which the soul,
after the recollection, sees in itself as the greatest
good, namely, its Beloved, Who dwells in the soul and
Who should not be sought elsewhere. The knowledge of
possessing the Beloved, of being in His Presence, gives
the soul a quiet pleasure, enthralls the powers of the
soul, carries all its attention to God.

In the fifth mansion, the faculties of the soul dare,
as it were, inaccessible to the impressions other
things should like to make. It seems that they are
blunted to the external life and are carried away in
the contemplation of Him Who rises high above all
others and claims all contemplation. They seem as in a
spiritual sleep, the soul dreams of its Beloved and
although the different impressions from the external
world still try to influence us and to disturb and to
interrupt this sleep and although the soul sometimes
awakes from this dream, still it is little accessible
to all those impressions and it does its best to
subside into that gentle slumber and to devote itself
entirely to the contemplation of its Beloved. Often
that spiritual sleep overcomes it and it is no longer
able to occupy itself with earthly things or to tear
itself from this slumber.

In the sixth mansion, the soul is altogether immersed
in the contemplation and the enjoyment of the object of
its love and to the world, it is as though dead and
forlorn. It flings itself, as it were, in the arms of
its Beloved and becomes engaged to Him. It should like
to stay with Him. The world no longer appeals to it, it
has no eye nor ear for the world. God is its only good,
in Him it will rest. In the knowledge of its union with
Him, the soul is so happy that never more should it
like to be separated from him. Its faithfulness in that
state being tried, the Beloved cements it in His love
and celebrates with the soul the spiritual marriage of
unbreakable union and of the most intimate intercourse.

In the seventh mansion, the soul is living only in and
through the Beloved. The soul has devoted itself
entirely to its Bridegroom and is a ready tool in God's
hands, Whose hands it does not leave and from Whose
espousal it is not drawn away, even by contact with the
world. It has risen to a new life, a life in which the
natural and the supernatural are merged in a wonderful
way. Nothing is able to separate the soul from the
contemplation of its Beloved, Whom it worships within
itself and embraces with expressions of its love; Whom
it sees in all things; Whose will it adores and
glorifies; with Whom, in a word, it lives in an
intimate union and to Whom it has not only devoted
itself, but is also lovingly drawn, never to escape
again.

Recollection and quiet, slumber and spiritual sleep,
passage and death, resurrection and new life infused by
God -- these are the four degrees of the mystical life
described by St. Teresa in four successive
psychological states, each of more intimate intercourse
with God.

The Necessity of Recollection for Finding God in the
Soul.

St. Teresa paints the mystical life as something which
develops in the soul, according to the latter's natural
ability, as the ultimate realisation of man's powers.
These have been implanted by God in man's nature and
will be realised when the soul is aware of its
possibility to reach that high degree of perfection and
therefore gives up itself wholly into the hands of the
Lord Who alone is able to carry it to the highest of
elevations. For all this, nothing else is asked of the
soul than that it accomplish God's wishes and desires,
put its trust in Him and in Him only finds its
happiness. He likes to have an ordered love and He
Himself will order that love in the soul. He forbids
not the love of created things but wills that the soul
love Him above all, and all else only in Him, through
Him and with Him. Because its love is too unsettled,
God in the first place asks of the soul to turn into
itself and to contemplate Him as living in the centre
of its heart. He is standing at the door of that
innermost mansion, knocking and asking the soul to come
to Him and not to wander about in the external mansions
as if He, its Host, were not yet at hand. It must
forsake and abandon all it has and join itself to Him
in its innermost part. Once admitted into that inner
circle, it may inspect all and pass thence through the
whole castle. Then all belongs to the soul just as all
belongs to God.

So the mystical life is a methodical way, an
accommodation of the faculties of the soul to the
object of knowledge and love. Because God, Who gives
happiness and joy, is the highest and most satisfying
object of that knowledge and love, so in the method of
love, He must rank first. That God must rank first
follows not only from the surpassingly infinite
perfection of the character and nature of the Divine
Being in Himself, but also from the dependence upon God
of all we know and love. God is the Creator and
Conservator of all beings and in His workings His
finger touches us. But nowhere else is God so near as
in ourselves. There is the first place we must try to
find and to see Him.

Harmony Resulting Between Natural and Supernatural

Here also there is a marvelous harmony between nature
and supernature, between the life of grace and the
mystic, superabundant influx of grace. God, so to say,
enlarges His creature and raises it to its highest
perfection. There is such a gradual development that it
should not be too arduous for nature; but at the same
time there is such a supreme rise above all powers of
nature that only divine grace is able to lift it to
those lofty heights, to lead nature to the ideal
established by God. Yet no matter how much this high
perfection goes beyond the power of nature, it is,
nonetheless, a true accomplishment of that nature, a
realisation of that which is placed in it by God as a
possibility, although it can be realised only by His
immediate intervention.

The Diamond Castle.

In her diamond castle of the soul, St. Teresa places
the sun as a source of light in the inmost mansion and
has it shoot its rays to the numberless neighboring
mansions. In the most external the solar rays pierce
only dimly because all sorts of hindrances restrain
that radiation. But that light shining out from the
centre forces us to open our eyes and to approach the
inner mansions, there to contemplate the light in all
its limpidity and to be illumined by its splendour.
Here, Teresa had the image of the light beaming from
the bottom of the soul as well as that of the knocking
and calling of the Lord. Who calls the soul to come to
the innermost mansion. In the external circle of those
mansions the call sounds dim, but happy the man who,
hearing that voice, answers the call. That first grace
is the messenger of an ever greater influx of grace. As
the first grace St. Teresa mentions the ability of the
soul to see the "approach" of the Bridegroom, and to
understand His voice. In no other way can the soul
reach this grace than along the way of recollection.
And though it may be true that the first hearing, the
first seeing, is to be regarded as a grace of God, Who
all at once shines His light into the soul and suddenly
makes His voice be heard, yet an answer must be given
to that invitation of love and the soul must release
itself from that which enthralled it till now. The eyes
must be rubbed to see clearer and better what God,
already in the external mansions, shows to them who
have eyes to see and ears to hear. God can and will
enthrall and bind the soul. He delights it to rest and
slumber in Him but only then when the soul has
succeeded in tearing itself away from that which binds
it to the world in the external mansions and in placing
itself under the mighty rays of the sun which is
described as being able to pervade all things coming
within its rays.

The Indescribable Beauty of the Soul and Our Lamentable
Indifference to It.

St. Teresa informs her untrained sisters of this image
in the simplest way: "Let us regard our souls as a
castle," she writes, "which is made wholly of a single
diamond or a pure crystal and in which there are many
mansions. Indeed, my sisters, thinking over this, the
soul is nothing else than a paradise in which God, as
He Himself says, has His delight. There is nothing with
which I can compare the great beauty and marvelous
receptivity of a soul. Indeed, no matter how keen our
sense may be, we shall hardly be able to understand it,
any more than we are able to know God. He Himself says
that we are created to His image and to His likeness.
And this being so, and so it is, it is in vain to wish
to fathom the beauty of this castle. For us the fact
that the divine Majesty says the soul is created to His
image is enough to inform us of its great dignity and
beauty. For us it is no little grief and no little
shame that by our own fault we do not understand
ourselves and do not know who we are. Seldom we regard
the treasures the soul may possess or who is living in
it or the value it has. Picture this castle, as I have
said, as having many mansions, some upstairs, some
downstairs, others at the sides. In the centre, in the
inner part of all these mansions, is the most
important, the place where the most secret things
between God and the soul happen. It is necessary that
you call all your attention to this."

Some pages further on, she writes: "Return to our
beautiful and magnificent castle and consider in what
manner we may enter. What I may say now seems to be
absurd, for if the castle is the soul, then it is plain
that it is not necessary for the soul to enter because
soul and castle are one and the same. For it would be
absurd to invite a person who is already in a room to
enter it. But know that there is a great difference
between being present and being present. Many souls are
only behind the outer walls, where the waiters are;
they do not try to enter the castle itself. They do not
know what is hidden in that precious place, nor who is
dwelling there, nor what the mansions are which the
castle contains. No doubt, in some spiritual books
dealing with prayer, you have already read that they
advise the soul to recollect. Well, then, what I have
said is the same -- Recollection."

So I could go on, but these examples from the first
chapter of the Interior Castle of St. Teresa show
plainly that her thesis on the mystical life are built
on the base that God created the soul and maintains it
to His image and likeness, that He Himself dwells in
the inner mansion of the soul and that consequently the
soul should take the first steps along the road of
recollection to meet Him, Who, in the innermost part of
the soul, is inviting it to His embrace and to the
union with Himself.

Affective Prayer Based on Exercise of Intellect.

On opening her book, one reads what a high value she
sets on imaginative and intellectual meditation, though
she likes to see it interrupted and alternated with
acts of love and gratitude. She admits that there can
be a time in which the soul is so filled with love that
it is no longer necessary to awaken love by the effects
of imaginative and intellectual meditation. She
expressly warns also that when God has filled the soul
with acts of love and gratitude, of admiration and joy,
imaginative and intellectual meditation and active
contemplation cannot be neglected, because they are the
general way of moving the will to which we have to
return.

Her Whole Philosophy: Effort Essential.

For the rest, one should read the works of St. Teresa
to see that reasoning and logical evolution take a high
place in her doctrine. How many comparisons she has
given to impart to her sisters the idea of the most
sublime things! Indeed, she admits and declares her
inability to make understood the gifts of God in the
mystical influx of grace. Full of gratitude, she says
that in one moment of elucidation given by God the soul
learns more than years of study and active
contemplation can reveal. But she never neglects
contemplative prayer, meditation and active
contemplation. She also appreciates at its highest the
guidance of a specific director. Her doctrine is not
that of Quietism. She ever insists on the practice of
virtues even in the highest states of mystical
contemplation and in the most intimate union with God.
The first three degrees of our approach to God are not
only strides on the way of the exercise of virtue but
she will have this effort continued to the end and
looks at it, first, as the best preparation and as a
proof of our receptivity, and secondly, as a required
adornment of the soul that has had the privilege of
being chosen as the Bride of the Lord and thirdly as
the promised fruit of our intercourse with God. True,
there is also mention here of the infused virtues; of
acting under the irresistible pressure of God's grace;
but more than once St. Teresa warns against delusion
and she expressly says that no virtue may be named true
as long as it is not tried and proved by voluntary
acts. She desires no abolition of the natural order
through the divine residence but an ever-increasing
refinement, to be evidenced also in the effects of the
different faculties. Indeed, here and there the effects
of imagination and remembrance, even those of sense and
will are painted as annoying; they are compared with
the wild flutterings of the bats, the jumping of wild
animals, by which we are waylaid and threatened in
entering the mysterious castle, but here it is a
question of the unbridled effects of these faculties,
among which harmony should be established. Therefore,
recollection is the first necessity. Even in the
highest states of the mystical life we meet human
nature in all the splendour of a harmonious
development. Even in heaven, body and soul will be in
harmonious union. In the highest states of mystical
life, in this unbreakable union, in this common life,
in which there is the most perfect harmony between the
Divine and the human, ecstasy, rapture and visions are
only accidental. Truly these latter are a revelation of
union with God and of the seizure of the soul, but they
are not the first requirement, nor the essential.
Essential is the life of union, the new life after our
resurrection from the death of the old life.

Positive View of Spiritual Life: Resurrection Must
Follow Death.

To reach this life of union a long way must be
traversed. In the beginning, one striving for
recollection will see that a heavy fight against nature
is necessary; much must die in us in order that God may
live in us free and unhindered. There is a life that in
its first degrees might rather be called passing away.
But Teresa will not see the way to the union with God
as a mere negative one; death must be a passing to a
new life. While all that is a hindrance to the kingdom
of God in us is killed, at the same time the divine
Gardener must strew the seed of virtues and we should
plant and look after the garden of our hearts, because
by and by when the sun is high, the flowers will shoot
up in that garden as a revelation of a new spring time.
For a great part, that care, that watering is put in
our own hands. Not only should we weed, but also plant
and water.

The Solicitude of God: Spiritual Chess.

But the great Gardener is our Helper; or, to use the
image of St. Teresa, He leads the water of His grace
along different brooks and canals to the garden of our
heart and sends down His abundant rain at the right
time, thus taking out of our hands the work of
watering. St. Teresa illustrates this by the ancient,
medieval treatise on "Spiritual Chess." She says we
should play a spiritual chess game with the Beloved of
our heart and that we should checkmate Him. And she
adds that He cannot escape our moves and moreover would
not even wish to escape. By this she gives us to
understand that although we must do our best by playing
well, the whole play is so calculated that at last the
king is checkmated. The more play the queen, that is,
our Modesty, has, the sooner will the king be captured.

Consequently, the mysticism of Teresa, no matter how
sublime in the description of the sweet intercourse
with God, is on the other hand real and practical.

Mary Our Model in Attaining First Degree of Mystic
Life: God's Birth in Us.

And now a final idea. God, acting in us and dwelling in
us, is the starting point of the mystical life. In the
activity of God we should see the continuation of the
creation, just as this activity is the continuation and
the further revelation of the eternal birth of the Son
from the Father and of the Holy Ghost from the Father
and the Son. The knowledge of the presence of God in
us, the indwelling of the Holy Trinity, should again be
awakened in our lives. God should again dwell in us,
should be born again in us. God's Son has taken on
human nature, so that we could realise again the union
of our nature with the divine. We should unite
ourselves with Christ and in, with and through Him,
with the Holy Trinity.

No creature shared that grace in a higher degree than
Mary. She, our Mother, is our example of the manner in
which God must be born again in us. On the one hand, we
should recognise ourselves as her children, because her
son is our Brother. On the other, she will also teach
us how to conceive Christ and bear Him and how to bear
Him.

Let us say after Mary, with St. Teresa: <Ecce ancilla
Domini, fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum> -- "Behold the
handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to
thy word."

THE MARIAN "DOCTOR MYSTICUS"

No Sign of Opposition, but of Union.

IT is a great joy for me, a Carmelite of the mitigated
branch, to be allowed to take part in the choir of
praise sung in honour of St. John of the Cross, who has
been, together with St. Teresa, the reformer of our
Order. It gives me pleasure to have occasion here to
tender my small mite of glory; to be the interpreter of
what I am sure all Carmelites of the mitigated
observance see with me in this hero of Carmel, cal led
by God, to restore its ancient glory, to make that
glory, the glory of his mystical gifts of grace, glow
more brightly.

Indeed, we do not look upon him as the prior of the
monastery of the Old Observance of Segovia did, as a
sign of opposition, but rather as a bond of unity,
binding us all together. The fact that we call
ourselves Calced Carmelites of the Old Observance might
create the impression that we despite his lessons, that
we do not intend to follow him. It is a pity that we
are so apt to place contradiction above agreement. Even
during St. John's lifetime many unreformed friars
admired and imitated him in a way which gained them
praise from himself.

Up to a certain point the papal dispensations of the
old Rule have given occasion for a certain deviation
from the spirit of the Order, yet they do not touch
this spirit in any vital point. Saintly, blessed and
venerable men and women have proved that with these
dispensations the spirit of the Carmelite Order can
live on. Not the letter, but the spirit vivifies. To
strengthen that spirit we welcome the works of St.
Teresa and St. John of the Cross with filial affection.
We, even more than the reformed branch, need to study
and absorb their works, and let them blossom forth in
life and deeds. We love them and we follow their
footsteps in the cold snow of this world; to warm
ourselves where our own heat is insufficient to keep us
from freezing in the cutting North wind of earthly
troubles.

A Marian Mystic: His Life Was Truly Marian.

I think it is a favour to have occasion to speak here
about Our Lady in the mystical system of St. John of
the Cross, and to show how this mystical doctrine fits
into the frame of the school of the Brothers of Our
Lady of Carmel.

St. John of the Cross, together with St. Teresa, has
reformed the Order of Mount Carmel, has called it back
to its pristine state. I do not hestiate to say that
they should not be entitled to this name of reformers,
had not Our Lady impressed her hallmark on their life
and doctrine.

Mary, Ideal of the Soul

For St. John of the Cross, Our Lady is the ideal of the
soul that strives upward toward God, and is drawn by
God towards Himself. But she is so under more than one
aspect. Not always does he express himself with equal
force.

Particularly does he praise in her the fact that she,
who is indeed called by the angel "full of the Holy
Ghost," always let herself be led by the Holy Spirit,
an ideal which we must strive after in our intercourse
with God, however, difficult it may be and however few
will be found who know and follow up the counsels of
the Holy Ghost.

As an example of a soul that always followed the
inspiration of the Holy Ghost, he cites in the same
chapter the example of Our Lady "la gloriosa," the
glorious one, Mother of God. From her earliest
existence she was raised to this state. Never was the
image of any creature impressed in her mind, which
could withdraw her from God and consequently she was
never moved by any matter of this kind. Her motive was
always the Holy Ghost.

Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, also quotes these
words in his essay L'Union Transformante, in the fine
periodical dedicated to mysticism, La Vie Spirituelle,
in which he treats of the new Doctor of the Church:

"Indeed, she is for him, as is truly reasonable, the
ideal of a soul aspiring to the summit of Mount Carmel.
He has not dedicated many words to her, but the few
which he has written about her show that he regarded
her as the archetype of a soul aspiring to the
enjoyment of that unity, to the teaching of which he
seems to have dedicated his life as an author. Other
souls approach this ideal only in a lesser degree."

Marian Images: Window Through Which Sunlight Passes.

How often does the saint employ imagery that can
generally be applied to Our Lady. It is next to
impossible that he has not thought of His Holy Mother
in this connection. But even if this should not be the
case, nevertheless the use, and therefore the
suitability, of these images stamp his mysticism as a
mysticism of a Marian character. It is impossible to
sum up all these imageries in this short space. I want
only to draw your attention to a few outstanding ones.

A much loved comparison of the saint which he employs
to express the necessity of our being susceptible and
pure in order to partake of the grace of God, and even
share the divine nature, is the image of the window
through which the sunlight passes. The painters of the
Flemish country, the land of Memling, of Quinten Matsys
made a plentiful use of this image through their
wonderful miniatures. No creature absorbed more purely
the divine light that came into this world; no creature
gave it back with less blemish or spot and grew more
one with God than Our Lady. In the cherished metaphor
of St. John of the Cross, Mary appears before our
mind's eye as the greatest example of all; nay more, as
the first pane of glass without spot, who gave us the
light of the world. To her, more than to anyone else,
may be applied the words of St. John of the Cross
explaining the divine communing of the mystic life: "So
close is the created communion, if God grants it this
excellent and elevated favour, that the soul and
everything that is proper to God are united by a
participating recreation. The soul seems more God than
soul, even is God, through this participation, although
its natural being, in spite of its recreation, remains
as distinct from God's being as before; just as the
pane of glass, however lit up by the sun's beams yet
retains its proper essence, different from the beam
that passes into it." He further explains the image in
a way that more directly concerns Our Blessed Lady. If
the pane of glass be clean and spotless, the sunbeam
will light it up and change it in such a way that it
seems to be the light itself and gives out light
itself. That is the reason why Our Lady deserved to
become the Mother of God; because she offered not the
slightest hinderance to the divine indwelling. Like Our
Lady we must absorb the divine light.

To be sure, this is divine election. St. John says so
elsewhere: The pane of glass cannot prevent the light
from lighting it. Prepared by its purity, it is
passively lit up without any cooperation. But he adds
that although we cannot force God, nor prevent His
doing certain things, it is the soul's duty to bring
itself into the right condition, to cleanse itself of
all blemishes.

The Overshadowing.

In his explanation of another metaphor, the Living
Flame of love, St. John draws Our Lady as closely as
possible into the circle of his imagery. In speaking
about the glittering and shining of the lamps of God in
us, about our absorption of that divine light like the
pane of glass, about our participation in God's
qualities and works, he says that this figure has yet
another aspect: to overshadow. For a clear
understanding it must be understood, he says, that
overshadow means to cover with a shadow, or to protect,
favour, pour full of grace. For to say that one covers
another with his shadow means to say that he whose
shadow covers the other is ready to protect him and
intercede for him. That is the reason why the Archangel
Gabriel called the excessive favour conferred on Mary
at the conception of the Divine Son an overshadowing,
when he said "The Holy Ghost will come upon you and the
power of the Most High will overshadow you."

To understand what this spreading of God's shadow, or
over-shadowing, means, it must be borne in mind that
every object throws a shadow according to its own
particular shape and outline. So will the shadow thrown
by the lamp of God's beauty be another beauty,
according to the kind and quality of God's beauty; and
so will the shadow spread by the lamp of God's strength
be another strength, etc. Or in other and perhaps
better words, all these shadows will be God's beauty,
God's strength, etc., themselves, but in shadow,
because the soul cannot understand perfectly here on
earth. But because this shadow so well accords with the
essence and the real being of God, indeed because it is
God Himself, therefore the soul knows in shadow the
exquisite loveliness of God. In this way we may say the
soul equals Our Lady, upon whom the Holy Ghost
descended in all His fullness and whom the strength of
the All-High over-shadowed in the most perfect way. The
Incarnation Again.

Towards the end of this commentary St. John approaches
the image of the Incarnation in Our Lady to express the
most close communion of God with the soul, when he
explains the words spoken by the loving soul to God:
"Where thou dwellest in secret." By this the soul
means, says St. John, that God secretly dwells in it
because this oversweet embrace takes place in the very
depths of its substance.

It is here that the Holy Ghost, as it were, brings His
Bride to meet the Bridegroom, that they may embrace. In
that clasp He slumbers in her. He is not there unknown
to the soul itself, but he dwells there hidden from the
devil who cannot penetrate the scene of this embrace,
and from man who cannot understand, whose mind cannot
grasp its meaning. O how happy is the soul who always
feels God living in her, and resting in her. She is
bound to separate herself from everything, to fly all
intercourse with men and to live in the deepest silence
so as not to disturb by the least movement or sound,
the rest of the Beloved. Generally He will lie there,
as asleep, clasped by His bride in the substance of the
soul, and she is well aware of Him, and usually
joyfully so. If He were always awake, and continually
showering His light and love upon her, that would
already be a dwelling in glory for her. And seeing that
only a state of half-awakening, in which the Bridegroom
only partially opens His eyes, already transports the
soul so violently, what would happen to her if in her
and for her He were always perfectly awake? In reality
we have here a double image. The image of the
Incarnation of the Son of God in us, and of His divine
slumbering in us merge into each other. The image of
the overshadowing, placed side by side with this,
leaves no doubt that the outward image of the sleep is
nothing but a new metaphor of the still more intimate
indwelling.

The Field with the Precious Pearl.

This becomes still more clear when in the commentary on
the Spiritual Canticle we see, placed over against each
other, the hiding of the Bridegroom in the Bosom of His
Father and His discovery by the Bride, when He sleeps
in her own lap by virtue of her over-shadowing.
"Beloved," the bride cries to her loved, one, "Beloved,
where dost Thou hide Thyself?" "0 Bride," says St. John
of the Cross, "Your Bridegroom is the treasure hid in
the field of your own soul, a treasure for the
obtaining of which the wise merchant gave all his
possessions."

It is reasonable to renounce all your private interests
if you receive this treasure; to withdraw from all
created things and to hide, secrete yourself in the
innermost hiding place of your soul. There you will
shut the door, that is, withdraw you will from all
created things and pray to your Father in secret. Thus
hidden with your Bridegroom you will feel His presence
in secret, enjoy and caress Him in secret and rejoice
with Him in being secret, i.e., beyond everything the
senses can reach and tongue can express. Now then,
lovely soul, now you know that the lover you seek is
hidden in your soul; be diligent to remain in secret
with Him and you will feel Him and embrace Him with the
most tender love. It arouses no surprise that St. John,
where he speaks of the bounties of God -- He dispenses
thousands, he says -- should lay particular stress on
the Incarnation of God. That is the ground, there
shines the ideal of our mystic union with God. And our
example, nay our Mother, in this is Mary.

All other things, says St. John, God did in passing, as
it were. In His Son, however, He saw all things and
bestowed on them His beauty and His love. Through the
Incarnation He gave these a supernatural existence and
lifted them up, together with man, to the glory of God.
Through the glory of the Incarnation of His Son and His
resurrection according to the flesh the Father has not
only ennobled all creatures, but clothed them also with
beauty and dignity. Contemplating this secret, the soul
is wounded by love.

Spiritual Marriage.

Here St. John clearly expresses that the Bridegroom,
resting in His bride, there celebrates the mystery of
His Incarnation. Is it possible without mentioning her
name to refer to Our Lady more clearly as the most
favoured one of all the mystically blessed, the example
of all who seek union with God? He applies to the bride
what we so eagerly apply to Our Lady: She is the
enclosed garden, reserved for the Bridegroom only.
Hortus conclusus, soror mea sponsa. There she will
embrace only Him; she will be united intimately with
Him, with His nature without any meditation. This takes
place only in the spiritual marriage, which is an
embrace between God and the soul.

In this union, the saint proceeds, that which is
communicated is God Himself, Who gives Himself to the
soul, at the same time restoring her to a peerless
loveliness. Both have grown into one, just as-here note
the return of the metaphor -- just as the pane of glass
and sunbeam passing through it are one.

Great Happiness of Our Knowledge of the Incarnation.

Let us not forget it. Ever and again St. John returns
to the inexhaustible mystery of the Incarnation. "This
knowledge," he says, is not the least part of the
heavenly bliss." And he quotes God's own words: "This
is the life eternal, to know Thee, the only true God,
together with Thy Son, Whom Thou hast sent, Jesus
Christ." It would be tempting to relate the manner in
which St. John further describes the recreating of the
soul in God; she in God and God in her, taking His
efficiency from Hers.

If anyone still has doubts as to whether the connection
which we have traced between all these quotations is
correct; whether St. John really saw Our Lady in his
mystical ideas as the image of our souls in her most
intimate union with God, let him open the book of his
poetry in which the Mystic Doctor sings of the mystery
of the Incarnation. There Mary rises before us as the
mediatrix, for whom and in whom the Son of God Himself
as the Bridegroom contracts the marriage with His
bride, man, whom He permits to partake of His nature.
Not only He alone, but the Holy Trinity as a whole,
comes to dwell with the Son in the heart of man that
opens itself for God and is opened for him. A more
complete and beautiful confirmation of the Marian
character of the mysticism of St. John of the Cross we
cannot desire. Let us, especially the Carmelites, not
underrate this. Mary, our Mother, our glory, is our
example, our prototype, when God selects us also for
His divine favours. Her resplendent majesty is drawn by
St. John of the Cross in an inimitable way even when he
hardly ever names her. Illumined by him she shines for
us as the mystical rose, whose sweet odours waft
through the garden of the Church, so that we can repeat
what we often chant in our Office-that we draw near her
by the odour of her sweetness. Like bees we fly towards
this mystical flower to behold in it the fairness of
mystical life in its highest bloom, namely God, become
man in her, so that He can also be born in us who
belong to her.

Let us not always look at the dark night to which St.
John introduces us. Light gleams afar and is already
breaking through the blackness. With him we chant the
words of the Bride: Flores apparuerunt, "The flowers
are already coming up." We cannot always, nay we may
even seldom, stay in the contemplation of the
unimaginable, the imageless; so God Who wishes to
purify us and free us from everything that might
separate us from Him, purifies and uproots us, even in
a painful manner. The cross stands on the clouds as a
sign of victory. The Bridegroom opens His arms to fold
us to His breast and give Himself completely to us. At
His side stands Mary our Mother with the cry of
exultation on her lips "Behold He Who is mighty, has
done great things in me. What He 'did in me' and
bestowed on me, He will likewise bestow on you and do
for you if you follow my lead, if you will be my
children." ,

Perhaps it will be a struggle, it may cost dearly. St.
John says that that is exactly the reason why he and
his brethren must follow Jesus with His cross, stripped
of everything and of themselves because they are called
to be the Brothers of Our Lady of Carmel, that is,
called to be among those who are named in a special way
after her, and are especially numbered among her
children.

When St. John reminds us that especially at the
beginning one cannot constantly be in contemplation, he
says that the soul should then ever in all its
thoughts, acts, good deeds and undertakings have
recourse to holy thoughts and meditations, from which
it will draw more fervent piety and greater advantage.
But above all, should it resort to the life, the
sufferings and the death of Jesus Christ, to teach
itself to imitate Jesus' life; to yield in everything,
in all its acts and deeds, in life and death. Who can
be better company than Mary, who kept all Jesus' words
in her heart and stood, when He died, under the rood-
tree? St. John points this out himself when he says
that the soul that strives after nothing but the
perfect fulfillment of the law of God and the carrying
of Christ's cross will be a true Tabernacle, which will
contain the veritable Manna, Christ Himself. Can we not
alter these words thus: He will be another Mary, called
daily and aptly the Ark of the New Covenant?

In other places in his works as well, St. John of the
Cross reminds us that we cannot always soar into the
highest regions of the mystical life, but it is again
Our Lady who is the image of our union in those
regions. She also stands at our side, telling us what
we ought to do when we sink lower. "When the
contemplation ceases," says the sainted teacher (and he
adds that this will necessarily happen often, for not
one single saint was granted permanent contemplation
and prayer) "it will not harm us to have recourse to
Christ once more. On the contrary, it will be
advantageous to learn to imitate Christ's virtues and
to drink in His spirit. In that lies the aim of
prayer." He warns us against wishing to be so devoid of
all imagery as to overlook the Incarnation as well.

The union with God brings forth fruit and demands
certain dispositions. I think it extraordinarily
remarkable that St. John of the Cross who evidently
always saw Our Lady on the loftiest heights, never
reveals her on her way to Mystical union, but only in
the glory of her love; in the effect so to say, of her
union with God, in her likeness to Him.

The Example of Mary's Life: Four Incidents.

She gives us God, or God's image, or the fruit of His
Redemption. Four incidents in Our Lady's life are
pointed out by St. John in this connection. First he
remarks on the visit of Our Lady to her cousin
Elizabeth, the first act of love after the conception
of God's Son, the first radiation of her union with
Him, the first practice of her active life.

Another time he represents Our Lady at the marriage
feast of Cana where, urged by love, she merely makes
known to Jesus what is lacking and leaves the rest to
Him. Here likewise, is again a revelation of love, a
radiation of her union with Him. Let her also make the
wine to be poured out for us, the wine that makes us
brides.

Again St. John sets Our Lady before us as the Mother of
Sorrows, taking part in the sufferings of Our Lord. He
thinks this will need justification, because in his
whole plan he imagines Our Lady to be made by the
recreating love equal to the Angels who, he says, know
sorrowful things perfectly, but do not feel sorrow on
that account. But he adds that God sometimes makes an
exception in this and allows souls truly to suffer, in
order to increase their merits, or fire their love, or
for some other reason. Thus he acted with Our Lady, the
Virgin Mother, as he desired Mary to share in His
copious work of Redemption for our benefit and for our
example.

At length he conducts us-how could it be otherwise?-to
the Supper-room, where the Apostles and Mary were
together and where the result of their prayer with her
is that the Holy Ghost descended upon them in the form
of tongues of fire. He refers to the Apostles in the
Supper-room, moreover, as praying and persisting in
prayer with Mary the Mother of Jesus: Let us also pray
with Mary for that Spirit. May she not only protect and
guide us on our way through life, as she did St. John:
may she not only live in our minds as she did in St.
John's, but may she make us understand what St. John
has told us regarding her: that she is for us, even in
the most close union with God, an example and a
Mediatrix who can procure for us the grace of having
God become man in our souls also, one with us, the
eternal Son of the Father, through the wonderful
indwelling of the Holy Trinity, a source of vision and
love.

Living Lanterns in a Murky Night

St. John of the Cross has tried to conduct us to the
heights of the mystical life through the dark night,
the night of absence of imagery of all created things,
and stripping of all created things to let shine in us
only the light of which the indwelling of God makes us
full.

He had made darkness around us and at the same time
kindled the clearest light in us. We are under his
guidance, his pupils. To borrow a metaphor from
Ruysbroeck, we have become living lanterns in a murky
night. God's light fills us and illumines us, and at
the same time makes us shine. We are "bearers of
Christ." Would that we saw all lights of the world as
darkness, to recognise the eternal true light and make
it shine through us.

NEW BLOOMING OF THE OLD STOCK

John of St. Samson, a New Mystic of the Old
Observance.

AFTER the division of the Order into two branches at
the end of the 16th century some differences naturally
sprang up between the two branches and each life
developed along separate lines. But as early as the
17th century we find this divergence already reduced to
the smallest compass through an internal reformation in
the Calced Carmelites which quickened the old spirit in
a splendid way and proved that even with some
mitigations of the Rule the spirit of Carmel can live
and flourish. It is a remarkable dispensation of
Providence that shortly after the splitting up of the
Order, a man was raised up in the branch of the Old
Observance who became the soul of a new reform and who
was elevated by God so high in the mystical life of
Carmel that he ranks with the Great St. Teresa and the
Doctor Mysticus, St. John of the Cross, as a mystical
writer. His first biographer, Father Donatianus,
writes: "God has predestined him in matters of the
inner life to be one of the brightest flames of our
small observance."

A Carmelite of the Old Observance, Hieronymus a Matre
Dei, who recently edited a selection from the mystic's
works, calls him a <temoin autorise>, a weighty
exponent of the mysticism of Carmel. Besides, Henry
Bremond who dedicates to him some splendid pages of his
extensive work, <Le Sentiment religieux en France>,
calls him <un de nos mystiques les plus sublimes>, "one
of our most exalted mystics."

Within certain bounds we may say that he was in this
respect the St. John of the Cross of the Old
Observance. Perhaps one of the finest works produced by
the school of Mount Carmel is one of his numerous
writings, a treatise concerning the true spirit of
Carmel.

It was indeed a remarkable triumvirate that God had
brought together at the beginning of the 17th century
in the convent of Rennes in order to infuse a new life
into the old Order. It was really Prior Peter Behourt
who initiated the reformation, 1604. Later under the
name of strictior observantia it spread rapidly. Father
Philip Thibault, first subprior and afterwards
Behourt's successor as prior of Rennes, gave him his
whole-hearted support. But the soul of the movement was
actually the blind brother, John of St. Samson, who
entered the convent of Rennes in 1612, and died there
in 1636.

John of St. Samson or rather Jean du Moulin had been
blinded in infancy by an illness. He had grown up in
poverty and at length found an asylum in the Carmel of
Paris. In return, he often played the organ and grew so
skilled that people loved to hear him. He was intensely
pious but it never occurred to anyone to admit him into
the Order. He was already 35 years old before he
confessed his desire to receive the habit of the Order
to Father Matthew Pinault, a young father who had
finished his studies in Paris and was about to return
to the monastery of Dol in Brittany. He was received at
Dol in 1606 and from there arrived in 1612 at Rennes.

Prior Philip Thibault had heard a great deal about the
virtuous life and exalted prayer of this lay brother
and therefore desired him to be in the centre of the
new reformation that the love of God and the Order
might be increased. Yet Brother Samson was not quite at
ease. It was so very unusual that a lay brother should
take the lead in spiritual matters. Besides, he was
only imperfectly formed and his blindness made it
difficult for him to draw information from books.
Something had been read to him now and then; but much
guidance had not been his, unless God Himself had
guided him. To test the spirit that led him, the prior
ordered him to describe his manner of prayer. The
answer was as sublime as St. Teresa's to a similar
question, written in the book of her life. The very
title tells us how exalted was his idea of prayer, "On
the loss of the subject in the object" ("Of
Absorption").

Stricter Observance Spread Over Many Provinces.

He had a special gift of firing the young novices and
fathers with enthusiasm for the splendid ideals of the
Order and of teaching them to pray and meditate. The
circle of interested hearers grew and grew. Superiors
of other religious houses, eminent clergymen, as well
as prominent laymen, took pleasure in conversing about
spiritual matters with the pious brother; they even
came to visit the house for no other purpose. His
presence in the house, above all his intense occupation
with God, had a wonderful influence and in a short time
the convent of Rennes was a model of strict observance.
The influence and reputation of this house spread the
reformation to other houses, first in France, then in
the Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Ireland and Poland,
so that almost the whole Order was set on the way of
reformation. But the reason why we mention him is less
to speak about his life than to hear what he regards as
the spirit of the Order and what, according to his
teaching, should be looked upon as its ideal.

All Called to Mystical Life.

It strikes us immediately that the blind brother, with
all possible stress, maintains that we are called to
the mystical life, all of us; that the mystical life,
the familiar intercourse with God, the experiencing
god, the enjoyment of God, is something God will grant
man on earth, nay, grants it to many if only they make
themselves susceptible to it and place no limit or
hindrance to His love. Those who have entered the Order
of Mount Carmel should keep in mind that God calls them
to the enjoyment of His presence even in this life;
that He wills us to contemplate Him, to lose ourselves
in Him; that we should regard this as the first and
highest obligation and never allow either study, work
or pastoral duties to push it into the background.

He is very emphatic in this. On the other hand, he
acknowledges the necessity of study, of preaching and
of other pastoral duties. But these should be grounded
on a more elevated contemplation. That was the reason
why he wished the younger members of the Order to be
set on the road of contemplation so that, grown up and
confirmed in this, they could never really lose that
habit of contemplation. Thus all their work would be
supported by the most intimate intercourse with God.

As emphatically as possible he rejects the idea that
the mystical life which does not consist essentially in
sights and visions, stigmata and levitations, but
simply in seeing God before us and with us and in us,
being consumed through love for Him, knowing the divine
fire within us and only wishing with God that it burn
and consume us -- that this mystical life is not for
us, for every one of us. Naturally, he leaves the
disposition of this grace and its degrees to the good
pleasure of God. He does not want us to look upon
mystical life as something we can rouse in ourselves.
It is and ever remains a gift of God, but God has made
our nature susceptible to it. He does not want us to
disregard this susceptibility, to neglect developing in
and freeing it from such hindrances as lessen its
working in us. To this negatively directed preparation
he adds the more positive one of the steady practice of
virtue. Here it is clearly evident how nearly he is
related, on the one hand to St. Teresa and on the other
to Ruysbroeck; evidently both have influenced him. The
Devotio Moderna taken by Geerte Groote in its pristine
and noblest conception from Ruysbroeck has in this
respect been also adopted by St. Teresa. This is
especially true of the idea that man should not remain
inactive and leave everything to God but that a steady
activity in practising virtue and holiness is the first
and indispensable preparation for the higher grades of
mystical life.

The Order Is a School; a Family.

Our Order resembles a classroom in which we acquire
this practice of virtue, or a large family in which the
members strive together toward a common goal with
greater facility than is possible to individual effort.
In the spiritual life, no more than in ordinary life,
can we dispense with education, with teachers and with
guidance. It is an exception when God does not call in
the human aid of a community or of an Order to lift His
elect to the heights of sanctity. That is why it is so
significant that there are schools of mysticism in the
Church each with its own traditions, each following a
different road, but all emanating from one central
point, which is God Himself, and leading to one goal,
again not distinct with God. God has willed in Nature a
great richness and diversity. In the spiritual life He
also wills a variety, adapted to the diversity of
talents and the richness of forms under which He
communicates His graces. So also in His prescience He
called the Order of Mount Carmel into being and
overwhelmed it with graces. Its function would be to
form a school of mystical life, with a very personal
stamp which the leaders of the Order would preserve in
order that the Order would answer its peculiar
vocation. When God transplants into the garden of
Carmel the young seedlings that will open for Him like
flowers; when He calls to the Order so many fresh young
souls, glowing with zeal, then He desires that the
Order care for these souls.

Splendour of God's Wisdom.

Next Brother John acknowledges openly that he fervently
wishes to make known the splendour of God's wisdom
which wishes to do immensely more in man than it does,
but is hampered by the hindrances offered by man and
his frequent unworthiness. However, to him who pays due
respect, God's Wisdom is lovely. It will fill all its
elect with its treasures, its loveliness, its gifts. It
will overwhelm them and reward them with the full
enjoyment of itself. The less they are intent upon it,
the more they shall partake of it. Mostly they do not
think of it, or they would give their life a thousand
times for God. In fact, they almost live beyond
themselves already, quite wrapped in God. And their
body is subject to their spirit.

Special Form of Prayer, "Aspiration."

To attain this the Venerable brother insists moreover
on prayer and meditation, on a form of prayer which
might be called the continuation and permanent fruit of
prayer. Hendrik Herp, the Franciscan pupil of
Ruysbroeck, first employed the word which John of St.
Samson has taken over in his school, not as something
new in itself, but never before emphasized from this
point of view. John of St. Sampson has taken over this
form of prayer which is so perfectly in accordance with
the traditions of the old monks and also of the hermits
of Carmel. In his conference with the Abbot Isaac,
Cassian speaks about the use of ejaculations and
aspirations. Ven. John of St. Sampson further developed
this practice in a way that might truly be called
masterly. He has taught us the full beauty of this form
of prayer and brought it into use. He calls it with
Hendrik Herp, toegeesting, uplifting, or "aspiration"
and attaches to the latter word a peculiar meaning. It
is an exercise on our part and at the same time it is
thought to be extremely effective in making us share
the infusion of the abundance of divine grace because
it so greatly develops our receptiveness for grace and
absolutely opens our hearts to God. It is not simply a
loving dialogue; that is only the beginning and start.
It is a soaring to God, the bursting forth of a flame
out of our loving and glowing hearts. It is an attempt,
repeated again and again, to unite ourselves as closely
as possible to God, or rather, to reform ourselves in
God and conform ourselves to Him. It is an impulse, a
desire to lose ourselves in God and God does not
repulse us. He takes us to Him and we grow into one
spirit, we are filled with His spirit, we live his
life. How remarkable! We long for God because we are
filled with His spirit, with Himself. And because we
are filled with Him, we desire ever more to be filled;
we seek Him and so He fills us ever more. This practice
transcends all understanding, it transcends all display
of affection, it strives immediately to God and aims at
nothing else than being one with Him. Since intellect
and love are at the bottom of this "aspiration," or
"uplifting," it takes its stand there, yet one thinks
neither of intellect nor love, but only to gather its
fruit, the union. Nevertheless, in its growth it is an
exercise and many various steps may be distinguished in
it.

Four Steps to Aspiration.

The first step is the sacrifice of oneself and all
creation to God. In doing this it is best to focus the
offering all in one idea; that all is His, without
drawing special attention to one particular work of His
hands. We are to see God, not the creature; the
creature only in so far as is needed to mount up to
God. The second step is a request for His gifts; that
He Who is able to give them may give them; that He Who
is rich and mighty may diffuse this splendour. The
third step is the making of oneself similar to God, by
loving Him fervently and by desiring all to accept this
love and incite it in themselves. the last step is the
union of oneself perfectly to God. This includes all
the previous steps, but on a higher plane.

All this is far from easy, therefore the brother quite
understands that success does not come at once, but he
wishes us to take great pains. Gradually we shall
succeed. The exercise can, as it were, be ever more
intensified, till at length it grows into something
like an immediate seeing or grasping of God and grows
so familiar that it becomes second nature. All images
disappear; we pass above everything immediately to God.
Only we should not push this so far that we should want
to exclude Christ's humanity from our upward flight to
God. He is ever to remain our Intercessor, our
Mediator.

Knowing by Not-Knowing.

Relative to the union with God in the innermost parts
of our souls, the Venerable John loves to speak most of
an all-surpassing, all-exceeding, all-overreaching
contemplation, which according to his expression draws
the subject quite into the object, perfectly unites the
subject with the loved object and so enthralls the
subject with the object that one is absolutely
possessed by the other. In this he sees a wonderful
interchange. The soul loses itself in God. Its
understanding, its total bewilderment is its richest
idea. It realises that it will know the Highest by not
understanding what it knows. It often cannot talk about
it, nor find words to express what it should want to
say if it had to, or were to, communicate anything of
the Unspeakable. Thus it is for the soul both light and
darkness at the same time. So they, to whom God has
given the highest understanding, speak in an
incomprehensible language, only to be understood by
those who have been uplifted to an equal height.
Besides, men of this kind should not like to speak
differently with others, unless God would desire it.

The Scintilla Animae.

The true pupils of the school of Carmel should be in a
high degree wrapped up in themselves, to find and meet
God in the innermost recesses of their souls. There God
goes to meet them. He grows by the meditations they
devote to Him and the love they dedicate to Him. He
grows in the innermost depths of their being till they
cannot hide Him any longer and He does not want to
remain hidden in them any longer. John of St. Samson
renews here the old theory of the scintilla animae, the
spark of the soul, of the synderesis or summing up of
everything in the first and simplest terms, from which
everything develops and which is gradually known in its
richness, but which should ever be kept in mind as the
ground and the first summary. In the innermost,
deepest, most essential part of us God is the being of
our being, life of our life, the reason of our
existence and of everything we do and are able to do.
There God is like a spark in our soul. He has kindled
fire in us -- fire that imparts light and warmth, fire
that must flame up.

The Breach Spanned.

When we listen to John of St. Samson in the school of
Carmel and discover the spirit of the second
reformation, we are filled with pleasure. Then we
venture to cross the abyss which seems to widen and
does widen, according to some, between the two
observances. Then we hear that on either side of the
chasm the wood has its charms, that birds sing on both
sides and their songs speak to us of God. We see trees
bend towards each other across the chasm and their
branches intermingle. From above there is no abyss,
only a terrestial pedestrian halts a moment before the
division. The higher he mounts, the narrower the chasm
appears to his sight. And when his wings are grown,
then he springs from branch to branch till he is across
the chasm and for him it is one and the same lovely
wood, in which the birds sing one and the same hymn in
honour of God.

With a teacher like John of St. Samson in a reformation
of which he was the soul, and still is, we are not
branches that have lost the true nature of the old
stem, but in us the old stem can put forth new bloom,
as it did in him.

The blind singer of Rennes, John of St. Samson, sings
as the illuminated singer, St. John of the Cross, sang
in the darkness of Toledo.

THE APOSTOLATE OF CARMELITE MYSTICISM

St. Therese Draws the World to Carmel.

Now, as never before, the eyes of the world are turned
toward Carmel. In its garden a flower has opened its
petals, of such ravishing beauty that countless numbers
have directed their step hither, wishing to remain in
the pleasance where such lovely flowers bloom. They
examine anew the secrets of this beauty and once more
ask themselves of what the loveliness of Carmel
consists. This one flower has in turn drawn attention
to so many others that the world has been filled with
admiration for life in Carmel and on all sides new
convents have been founded in order to fill the world
with those sanctuaries in which one may live so saintly
a life.

I refer to the flower of Lisieux, Little St. Therese of
the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face, whose name has
flown over the world, whose life's story has been
translated into all languages, who is called by God to
add new lustre to the glory of Carmel.

Characteristics of Her Life.

To describe in a few minutes a life so filled with
proofs of intercourse with God, with virtue and
abundant infusion of grace, is next to impossible.
However, I will try to summarise briefly that which is
most characteristic in her life and which at the same
time shows her to be one of the loveliest and most
eloquent examples of the school of Carmel.

Practice of the Presence of God.

In the first place surely, comes her desire to converse
with God, to lead a higher life for and through Him.
She thoroughly understands that the living God who
fills heaven and earth, and at the same time dwells in
our innermost heart must be the object of our thoughts
and love. Most striking in her life is, therefore, her
living in God's presence. She may justly repeat the
words of Elias the Prophet: "God lives and I stand
before His face." To strengthen this in her mind she
fostered the devotion to the Holy Face, called herself
after it, pictured it for herself. It was an
unsurpassed means, not only to see God as man, but to
ascend through His Manhood to the Deity, and to live in
the bosom of the Trinity as He had lived there from
eternity.

Her Love of God.

As a result of this contemplation of God, love for God
wells up in her with irresistible power. Her spirit has
been called a spirit of love and so it is. However, it
is no blind desire, but love sprung from intellectual
contemplation, from knowledge acquired through faith.
In order to remain firm in our love towards Him, she
wants us continually to contemplate God's works and
notice the proofs of His love. It is noteworthy that
she very eagerly admires Nature and the loveliness of
our earthly creation, that she enjoys the magnificence
of flowers, the glory of a starry sky, but yet she
wishes us to leave all this after a short time in order
to mount up through this to God. They are a means, not
an end.

Her Humility and Simplicity.

From her life before the Face of God, and her love and
admiration for His power and majesty a third idea
springs forth, fitting remarkably well into the scheme
of the Order. I mean the idea of her own nothingness
compared with God, her wonderful consciousness of her
own smallness and slightness, her humility and her
conception of herself as being only a child. This
characteristic is often met with in the older saints of
the Order, as simplicity and humility are the special
hallmarks of the Order. How has Blessed John Soreth not
stressed this specialty? Cardinal Gasquet quite pithily
points out the characteristics which distinguish the
Order of Carmel from the various other Orders:
Simplices et sinceri. The life of little St. Therese
has indeed given this phrase a peculiar weight and
strength. It is so often said by various Carmelite
spiritual authors -- and it tallies so well with our
spirit -- that the Order is not called to do great
things, to be spoken of, but to make itself loved and
attractive by doing ordinary things well, without much
talking or noise; to live in a certain seclusion for
and with God more than for and with men; to attach
value to what God desires more than to what man sets
high store by. The first demand of the school of Carmel
is a silent introversion in order to live in and with
God. From this contemplation springs the feeling of
smallness and nothingness, modesty and simplicity.
"Unless you become like little children, you shall no
enter the Kingdom of Heaven." In the Collect of the
Mass of the Little Flower (Oct. 3rd) the Church
expressly mentions these words of Our Lord, so that
with the help of St. Therese we may be able to lay
these difficult yet necessary foundations for the house
of our sanctity.

Her Trust in God.

One of the paradoxes of St. Therese's life is that she,
while making herself small and weak, enlists the help
of Him in Whose strength she can undertake anything.
Her hope and trust are wonderful.

Importance of "Little" Things.

A second paradox is that by paying attention to the
most trivial things of daily life and seeing them with
the eye of God, this saint makes them great and
meritorious. Leading the most ordinary life, without
being in the least remarkable, she knows how to make of
her life an uninterrupted series of the most heroic
acts of virtue and to be continuously busy with God. In
perfect accordance with all this, we notice, fourthly,
little St. Therese 's perfect surrender to God. It is,
as it were, one with her consciousness of her
littleness and nothingness.

Her Conformity to the Will of God.

She is quite in the hollow of God's hand and surrenders
herself absolutely to what His Providence decrees. She
strives after, as perfectly as possible, a conformity
to the divine will. In this St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi
was a wonderful example for her in her own Order, and
she loved to meditate upon her. This latter saint, one
of the greatest glories of our Order, and so exalted in
mystic contemplation, above all in the contemplation of
the holy Trinity, was forever repeating: "It is God's
Will." This was for her absolutely final. Little
Therese was like her. She was deeply convinced and
firmly persuaded that without mortification a spiritual
life is an impossibility. Only for little St. Therese
there was no better opportunity for mortification than
accepting everything from God's hand just as He sent
it. Constant conformity is not so easy, but this is
just the reason why it is the most proper means of
mortifying and suppressing ourselves. She absolutely
secluded her own will and never wanted to give it play.
The image of the rose shedding its petals had a
particular charm for her. She wanted to shed all her
leaves, to tear oft all her petals and strew them on
the path of the Lord. He had to come along that road;
she wanted to force Him, as it were, to come and
fulfill her desire that He visit her. One of her
favourite maxims was: "If you faithfully please Him in
the small things of life, He will be bound, nay He
cannot but help you in the more important ones." She
wanted to be Jesus' flower, not to rock idly on its
stem, but to be picked by Him, to die for Him before
His eyes, to be strewed in His path and to be trodden
on. Another rule of life for her she embodied in an
ejaculation or aspiration: "I fear but one thing, to
retain my own will, Take it, Lord, for I choose only
what Thou choosest."

Mary Her Ideal.

As a fifth trait in her character I should like to
mention that her ideal on the "Little Way" was Our
Lady. Two words of Mary were deeply impressed on her
memory: <Ecce ancilla Domini> -- "Behold the handmaid
of the Lord." From her youth she had a fervent,
childlike devotion for Our Lady. Her statue stood in
front of her in the small room of her paternal home,
and it seemed to her as if it smiled down upon her. She
entered the Order of Carmel to be her child and to
imitate her especially in her union with Our Lord. Just
as the life of Our Lady was ordinary and consisted of a
series of the most common, everyday acts, so Therese
wishes her own life to be. If God had looked down with
such great contemplacency on the humility of Our Lady
and had even wished to descend into her, then He would
also look down with pleasure upon her, if only she
tried to grow a little like Mary. Mary surrendered
herself unreservedly to God's wishes through her
"Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me
according to Thy Word." So little Therese gave herself
unreservedly to God, wishing to please Him only, to
trust Him, to be His alone. Like Our Lady, who was not
disturbed when St. Joseph did not understand her
condition, but left the explanation of this mystery to
God, so little Therese gave everything into God's hands
with a limitless confidence.

God had also descended upon her, she also saw God
slumbering in her. She also wanted to taste of union
with God with the same delicacy as that with which Mary
enjoyed this delight. But lust as the descent of God
into Our Lady at once incited her to an act of
humility, made her go to Elizabeth, Therese likewise
wanted her union with God, her surrender to Him, to
manifest itself in humble acts of charity. Therefore,
she best liked to hear Our Lady praised as the example
of all virtues. What does Our Lady want with admiration
if we do not imitate her and respond to the great grace
which God gave us by making her our example and giving
her to us as our protectress? She put herself,
therefore, with the Infant Jesus, with Whom she felt
one, in the hands of the Virgin Mother. To describe
this she employed the most childish images. "When my
frock is awry from play and my hair is disheveled, then
Our Lady comes and pulls my pinafore straight, sets a
flower in my hair and so I can go to Jesus."

TWO FINAL POINTS

First Point: Her Apostolate of Prayer

Finally, there are two points in the life of little St.
Therese, deserving special note which stamp her as one
of the loveliest representatives of the school of
Carmel.

The mysticism of the school of Carmel could not claim
to be true mysticism if it were not apostolic in its
own peculiar way. St. Therese of Lisieux shows us the
true sense of the Apostolate of the school of Carmel.
"I would be a missioner," she says, "I should like to
have been one from Creation till the end of the world.
I should want to preach the Gospel in all continents at
once, as far as the farthest isles. Above all I should
like martyrdom. One torture would not satisfy me, would
not be enough. I should want to undergo them all. Open,
O Jesus, the book of life in which the acts of the
saints are written down, I should like to have
performed them all for You." But then she recollects
that God calls her along a different road to the
practice of the Apostolate. The Apostolate as a work of
God's grace has to be seen as a work of the mystical
Body of Christ of which God is the head and the soul,
of which we are the members, animated by God. Not all
have to fulfill a like duty. Love gave to St. Therese
the key of the vocation of Carmel in the Apostolate. "I
understood," she says, "that if the Church has a body,
built up of different organs, the chief, the most
necessary organ of all, could not be wanting. I saw
that it must have a heart burning with love. I
understood that only love sets the limbs in motion,
that if love were to be extinguished, the apostles
would no longer preach the Gospel, the martyrs would
refuse to spill their blood. I understand that love
contains all vocations. My vocation is love. I have
found my proper place in the Church. I shall be love.
In this way I shall be everything. In this way my dream
has come true."

Great St. Teresa Practised it Before Her.

The vocation which so transported little Therese was
not hers only, even though hardly anyone has understood
it as well as she has. Great St. Teresa of Avila at the
foundation of the first convent of her reform had
already explained this vocation to her sisters.
"Prevented from promoting as I desired the glory of
God, I resolved to do the little which lay in my power,
viz., to follow the evangelical counsels as perfectly
as I was able and to induce the new nuns who are here
to do the same, confiding in the great goodness of God
Who never fails to assist those who are determined to
leave all things for Him; and hoping that all of us
being engaged in prayer for the champions of the
Church, for the preachers and doctors who defend her,
might to the utmost of our power assist my Lord Who has
been so much insulted-O my sisters in Christ, help me
to entreat Our Lord herein, since for this object He
has assembled you here; this is your vocation, these
are your employments; these your desires; hither your
tears, hither your petitions must tend. When your
prayers and desires and scourgings and fastings are not
directed to this object, remember that you neither aim
at nor accomplish that end for which Our Lord assembled
you here together."

Here we see that St. Teresa not only has recommended to
her sisters the apostolate of prayer, but has given it
to them as a vocation.

Mary Magdalen de Pazzi: Another Model of Apostolic
Prayer.

To take an example from the Order of the Old
Observance, I call your attention to the great Italian
mystic, Saint Mary Magdalen de Pazzi, of the convent of
Florence. I would I had the occasion to speak longer
about her spiritual life and her mystic works, but time
does not allow. In this connection I will say, however,
that her vocation above all was to pray and do penance
in order to obtain the reform of all classes in the
Church, religious, priests, laity, and even heretics
and pagans. "I desire," she says, "to offer Thee, O my
God, all creatures class by class. Would that I had the
strength to gather all infidels, to lead them into the
bosom of Thy Church. I should pray her to purge them
from their unfaithfulness, to give them new life." It
is in flashes of fire and with impassioned accents that
she pours forth her prayer to God for the salvation of
the souls redeemed by the Holy Sacrifice of Calvary.

Contemplative Convents, Aids to Missions.

The Little Flower dreamt of conquering the world for
God and to realise this dream she entered a convent
where she was quite shut off from the world and then
cried out, transported with joy, that her dream had
come true. Only he can grasp this who has penetrated
into the secrets of God's grace; who understands that
in praying for grace and in sacrificing our life in
union with the Sacrifice of Calvary, God's Grace is
obtained. In this the chief part of pastoral care and
of missionary work consists. This is the most splendid
and intimate joining of the active and contemplative
life, not in one person but in the mystical Body of
which we are all members. We must be glad that the
unity of the mystical Body of Christ recreates even the
most secluded life, spent quite shut off from the world
and in the service of God, making it a fit soil for
missionary work, from which the latter can ever draw
new sap of God's grace. This thought has led to the
foundations of Carmels in the missionary countries
also. Over and above the other sacrifices, these
Sisters give up their country and climate and take a
lifelong farewell of parents, relations and friends of
their own. This idea drew little Therese in desire to
Indo-China. "Here," she writes, "here I am loved and
this affection is very sweet to me. But that is just
why I dream of a convent in which I should be unknown,
in which I should have to bear the exile of the heart
as well. I should like to go to Hanoi, to suffer much
for the good Lord. I should like to go there to be
lonely, to have no single consolation, no single joy on
earth."

Besides, the sight of these convents in the missions
keeps alive the idea of the value of the Apostolate of
prayer, both for those who practice it and for those
who remain outside. It is edifying to see how
missionaries themselves vie with each other in founding
Carmelite convents: how Popes and Bishops insist on the
building of these houses; how the Pope, to further this
thought, has made little St. Therese to be the patron
saint of all mission work as well as the work of the
reunion of Churches.

We Should Imitate the Little Flower.

This should indue all who are called to the spiritual
life of Carmel but especially those who cannot now, or
who can no longer, take an active part in the
Apostolate of the Church -- to regard contemplation as
the better part of the Order and should urge them to
follow as strictly as possible the contemplative life,
calling down the indispensable blessing of God on the
activity of the others.

From the small convent of Lisieux St. Therese has
preached her "Little Way" by sweeping the corridors and
washing dishes, cleaning the oratory and working in the
garden, by nursing the sick and helping the needy, by
studying at the proper time and reading what the mind
requires for its development. She has so conquered the
world. It is no wonder that this conception of inner
life of the school of Carmel, laid down in her Story of
a Soul, has drawn thousands to Carmel, that in our
busy, hurrying time she stands high, like a lighthouse
in a churning sea.

Second Point: Her Continued Apostolate After Death.

When we look up from the often storm-tossed waves of
the Mediterranean to Carmel, lifting its serene height
in peerless beauty as a safe haven of refuge, then the
image of Little Therese beckons us to land there and
take our rest; then it is her hand that rings the bells
of its silent chapel inviting us to pray with her.

History describes how St. Louis, King of France, while
on his Crusade, was overtaken by a gale at the foot of
Carmel and heard its bells ringing, calling the monks
for the night hours; how he went on shore and joined
the fathers in their prayers. At his departure he took
six monks with him to found a monastery in his capital.

You also are in a gale on your way to the Holy Land,
the kingdom of God on earth. I have been allowed to
ring the bells of Carmel for you, to make you hear the
voices that speak of prayer and apostleship, of prayer
on the flanks of that Holy Mountain. Do you also step
ashore for a moment to join in this prayer and take
back with you the spirit of Carmel, to make it live in
the capital of your kingdom, the kingdom of your
thoughts, the centre of your lives.

St. Therese of Lisieux has said that after death she
would strew roses on earth. And of what else is a rose
the symbol, if not of love of God, for Whom she wanted
to be a rose, a rose shedding its petals on the road of
God through the world?

Carmel is the mountain of shrubbery and flowers. with
full hands the children of Carmel strew those flowers
over the earth. Such a picture of St. Therese is widely
spread. The Saint scatters widely the flowers which she
receives from the hand of Our Lady, the Mediatrix of
All Graces. And this is the second noteworthy point in
the life of the Little Flower: her continued activity
after death.

We read in the Carmelite Missal in the Preface for the
Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel the significance of
the little cloud which Elias beheld from Mount Carmel
appearing out of the sea. "Who through the small cloud
arising out of the sea didst foretell the Immaculate
Virgin Mary to the Blessed El as the Prophet, and didst
will that devotion be shown to her by the sons of the
prophets." Elias beheld her and with him we all look up
to her. She has her hands filled with flowers and she
brings her Divine Son the source of all beauty and
grace. On those who pray the first drops of the
redeeming rain descend, roses of divine grace.

At the feet of Mary, the Mother of Carmel, I see
kneeling in prayer with St. Therese the many saintly
and blessed women and men who were the very flowers of
Carmel during the preceding centuries. The flowers of
their example rain down upon us. But they must be
transplanted to the garden of our soul.

In our own times St. Therese, the "Little Flower," is
elected to make that rain more abundant than ever. May
she give us from the hand of the Mother of Carmel, from
the Holy Mountain, the roses we need for the garden of
our soul. The twofold spirit of the Prophet of Carmel
will fill the garden of our heart with its sweet
odours. And may God walk in its sweetness.

"Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see
God."

(c) The Carmelite Press, Darien, Illinois, 1986.

(Taken from Charlie the Carmelite at http://www.azstarnet.com/~chas/index.html)

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