Joy in Suffering

Front matter

by Father Noser, s.v.d.

MISSION PRESS-TECHNY, ILL.

PRICE TEN CENTS

Did St. Therese Suffer Much?

Did St. Therese Suffer Much?

This question naturally suggests itself as one looks upon the cheerful, almost smiling countenance of the "Little Flower," pressing her rose-covered Crucifix to her heart. Even those with whom she lived for nearly nine years openly voiced their belief that she had not. She herself, however, gave a different answer as her last days drew near. Pointing to a glass containing medicine of a bright-red color, she said: "You see this little glass? One would suppose that it contained a most delicious draught, whereas, in reality, it is more bitter than anything else that I take. It is the image of my life. To others it has been all rose color; they have thought that I continually drank of a most delicious wine; yet to me it has been full of bitterness. I say bitterness, yet my life has not been a bitter one, for I have learned to find joy and sweetness in all that is bitter." A

slow and thoughtful reading of her autobiography, letters, and poems will fully convince one of the truth of these words—yes, even of that seemingly incredible and exaggerated cry of her anguished soul: "I could never have believed it was possible to suffer so intensely!"

"A Little Child Shall Lead Them"

JOY IN SUFFERING

"A Little Child Shall Lead Them"

Suffering is the common lot of man. Many people spend their lives in an unbroken effort to plan ways of escaping it. All through the ages philosophers have racked their brains in an attempt to find a solution of the mystery of pain. Nineteen hundred years ago the Son of God came down from heaven and chose to be a "Man of Sorrows," that He might be the Way and Model for suffering mankind. But men either rejected or neglected His wholesome doctrine, and today God, who is ever rich in mercy and compassion, to recall these priceless lessons, has placed before the eyes of the world a tender maiden to teach them in a most attractive manner, both by word and example—one solicitous not about avoiding suffering, but about embracing it joyously with all her heart. The words of the prophet, "a little child shall lead them," are fully verified in St. Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face.

Preparatory Prayer

Preparatory Prayer (To be recited daily)

Dear St. Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, I thank the Most Holy Trinity for all the graces lavished upon you, and through you upon the world. I have great confidence in your intercession, both because of your power in heaven, since you yourself said that "God would refuse you nothing," and because of your goodness and your promise that "no one would invoke you with

receing an answer," since you would "spend your heaven in doing good upon earth" and "let fall from heaven a shower of roses." Intercede for me with the loving Hearts of Jesus and Mary, that the Holy Spirit may assist me to understand your teaching on "Joy in Suffering" and may grant me the gift of fortitude, that fired with a burning love of God and souls, I may eagerly follow you in joyous suffering and one day share in your glorious triumph. I promise to show my heartfelt gratitude by doing whatever I can to promote your honor and to make you ever more widely known and loved throughout the world for the greater glory of the most Holy Trinity. Amen.

"You Must Tell People This…!"

"You Must Tell People This…!"

Toward the end of her life, St. Therese, knowing that people might be deceived by her perpetual aspect of happiness, insisted on having it made known that she had suffered much. "Deep down in my soul," she said, "there are, I own, joy and transports of delight…. But that would not encourage others if they thought that I had not suffered much…. Oh, if they only knew how much I suffer…! I have had much to suffer on earth. You must tell people this…!"

In these pages we propose to give an outline of the teaching of St. Therese on "Joy in Suffering." The readings and prayers are arranged in the convenient form of a novena with three main thoughts for reflection for each day. It is hardly possible to give more than the barest sketch in such a short brochure, but this little study is offered as a tribute of gratitude and love to the Saint, and in the hope that it may be of service to her devoted clients, whose devotion to St. Therese is not of the purely emotional and sentimental type, but her true clients, who, like she herself, are ready to be generous even to heroism and immolation in their love of God, to be among her "legion of little victims of Divine Love" who will follow her to triumph by joy in suffering. St. Therese, be our guide!

First Day

FIRST DAY

St. Therese's Attitude Toward Suffering

(1) Her Views on God and Suffering.—The view which St. Therese took of God when He sent her suffering was exquisitely delicate and charming as well as true and consoling. God is not some cruel and heartless being who takes a malicious delight in torturing his helpless victim, but He is the tenderest of fathers. All comes from His boundless love. "Far from complaining to our Ford of the cross which He sends us," she wrote, "I cannot fathom the infinite love which has led Him to treat us in this way." And again: "This trouble is a tender considerateness on the part of Jesus…. What a favor from Jesus, and how He must love us to send us so great a sorrow! Eternity will not be long enough to bless Him for it." What a beautiful thought!

But she was human, and so she also asked: "How can the good God, who loves us so much, be happy when we suffer?" There is a touching tenderness and refinement in her playful answer: "Never does our suffering make Him happy, but it is necessary for us; and so He sends it to us while, as it were, turning away His face…. I assure you that it costs Him dearly to fill us with bitterness." From this her sensitive heart draws the loving conclusion: "The good God, who so loves us, has pain enough in being obliged to leave

us on earth to fulfil our time of trial, without our constantly telling Him of our discomfort; we must appear not to notice it." It was the same delicate feeling that made her reprove a weeping novice, who said to her: "Henceforward my tears will be for God alone. I shall confide my worries to One who will understand and console me." To which St. Therese replied: "Tears for God! that must not be. Far less to Him than to creatures ought you to show a mournful face…. Our Divine Master comes to us in search of rest—to forget the unceasing complaints of His friends in the world, who, instead of appreciating the value of the cross, receive it far more often with groans and tears. Would you be as the mediocre souls? Frankly, this is not disinterested love…. It is for us to console our Lord, and not for Him to console us. His Heart is so tender that if you cry, He will dry your tears; but thereafter He will go away sad, since you did not suffer Him to repose tranquilly within you. Our Lord loves the glad of heart, the children that greet Him with a smile. When will you learn to hide your troubles from Him, or to tell Him gaily that you are happy to suffer for Him?" When will I…?

(2) Her Esteem for Suffering.—St Therese was not content to know that suffering comes from God's love, she also wanted to know what He desired to effect by it that she might the more effectively enter into His loving designs. She found three things:

(a) The proof of her love of God. She recognized in suffering the highest proof of pure and genuine love, for "there can be no love without suffering.' Hence:

Under the pressure of pain I prove my love by test divine!"

In proportion to our willingness to suffer for any one is the measure of our love for him. This, then, is the first thing that God desires to effect in sending us suffering—"that our souls may turn to Him alone"; "His thorns, as they wound us, spread abroad the perfume of our love."

(b) Oneness with God. But God sends us suffering also because "He longs to give us a magnificent reward." What is this reward? "He knows that suffering is the only means of preparing us to know Him as He knows Himself, and to become ourselves divine." What does this imply? "O my God, what shall we then see? What will be this life which will have no end? Our Lord will be the soul of our souls. O unsearchable mystery! 'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man what things God hath prepared for them that love Him.'" How do sufferings effect this? By conforming us to Christ Crucified, for "they greatly help to detach us from this earth, they make us look higher than this world." Besides, life and pain are short; "tomorrow, in a brief hour, we shall be at rest"; nay, even now "God already sees us in glory and rejoices in our everlasting bliss. I understand now why He lets us suffer."

(c) There is yet a third effect of suffering—the ransom of souls. "Jesus has for us a love so incomprehensible that He does not wish to do anything without making us His cooperators. He wills that we should have a part with Him in the salvation of souls." How? "From the day He raised His standard of the Cross, all must fight and win in its shadow. Far more by suffering and persecution than by eloquent discourses does Jesus wish to build up His Kingdom." Clearly perceiving this triple value of suffering, St. Therese esteemed every cross as a "mine of gold for us to turn to account," and, being overwhelmed with crosses, she cried out: "Jesus heaps His favors upon us as upon the greatest saints…. Ours is an enviable lot, and the Seraphim in heaven are jealous of our happiness!" Do I realize this?

(3) Her Insatiable Thirst for Suffering—St. Therese was logical and she was not a coward. She saw the immense value of suffering and had the courage to embrace it with her whole heart. "I can truly say," she wrote, "that Suffering opened her arms to me from the first, and I took her to my heart." In her thanksgivings at Holy Communion, while still quite young, she often prayed: "O my God, who art unspeakable sweetness, turn for me into bitterness all the consolations of earth." On the day of her religious profession she asked: "Give me martyrdom of soul or body. Or, rather, give me both the one and the other." Later she said: "When the way of perfection was opened out before me, I realized that, in order to become a saint, one must suffer much … always seek the most perfect path, and forget oneself. I also understood that there are many degrees of holiness, that each soul is free to respond to the calls of our Lord, to do much or little for His love—in a word, to choose among the sacrifices He asks. And then … I cried out: My God, I choose everything, I will not be a saint by halves. I am not afraid of suffering for Thee. I fear only one thing, and that is, to do my own will. Accept the offering of my will, for I choose all that Thou willest.'" The reason was because her Love was crucified:

No other joy my heart would know Save immolation like to Thine!"

Souls strong and pure, in life's dark night of sorrow, Claim but one glory here—the cross to bear."

In her zeal for souls she sang:

I love the Cross, I sigh for anguish, Suffering for God is my desire: If but one soul in fetters languish, With thousand lives I would expire!"

This thirst became "more vast than the universe" and developed into a "veritable martyrdom," so that, thinking of the fearful torments of the martyrs, she exclaimed: "I do not sigh for one torment; I need them all to slake my thirst. My heart thrills at the thought of the frightful tortures Christians are to suffer at the time of Antichrist, and I long to suffer them all. Open, O Jesus, the Book of Life, in which are written the deeds of Thy saints; all the deeds recorded in that book I long to have accomplished for Thee!" Nor did she ever repent of her desire, for only a few hours before her death she said: "Yes, all that I have written about my thirst for suffering is really true. I do not regret having surrendered myself to Love." Nor will I if I do so…!

Novena Prayer

Dear St. Therese, how beautiful and true is the view you took of God when He sent you suffering! What tenderness of feeling in your love for Him! How blind I have been in the past! How often I have complained and murmured against God just when He was bestowing His choicest favors—crosses and trials—upon me! I have looked upon Him as "a hard and austere man" or as a father without feeling and sympathy, who regarded not the pains and tears of his child, and all the while in His love He was cutting most gently and tenderly, and that but to heal, "turning away His face meanwhile, lest He should be overcome by grief at my pain," as the most loving of mothers, though her tears flow fast and her heart is rent with grief, is yet driven by her very love to cause pain to her child, that its life may be saved. O St. Therese, help me to view suffering as you did, to realize that God never loves me so much as when He gives me the Cross as my portion, and obtain for me a delicate and refined love like yours. Pray for me, that God may give me the light to see the immense value of suffering for His own glory, for my eternal reward, and for the salvation of souls. May I, too, be wholly consumed by an insatiable thirst for suffering. I also recommend to you my special intentions in this Novena…. God will refuse you nothing.

Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be.

Other Novena Prayers on page 46.

Second Day

SECOND DAY

St. Therese's Favorite Crosses

(1) Little Crosses.—St. Therese knew full well that trifles are but trifles, yet that trifles go to make up sanctity, and sanctity is not a trifle. "Everything," she wrote, "has such value in the religious life…. Pick up a pin from a motive of love, and you may save a soul." Little crosses are always within easy reach, and she was eager to make good use of them. "It is such a jov," she cried out, "to think that for each little pain borne with joy we shall love God more through eternity" "If we only realized what we gain through self-denial in all things!" She did, and for that reason

encouraged her sister: "We must not let slip the smallest opportunity of giving Jesus joy. We must refuse Him nothing." "We must not let slip one single occasion of sacrifice."

She herself, though she suffered constantly from a sick stomach, was so indifferent to what was served at table, to what agreed or disagreed with her, that none could discover it; the Sister next to her inadvertently always left her little wholesome food and drink, but she was silent and rejoiced; the kitchen Sisters, not knowing what to do with remains that had been warmed over half a dozen times, would remark: "No one will eat this but Sister Therese." She did, and with a smile. She sipped the most bitter medicines drop by drop. Though there was nothing from which she suffered so much physically as the cold, she took no means of keeping from feeling it; she used the discipline, struck hard and fast, and was careful not to lessen the sharpness of the pain; she refrained from indulging in little comforts such as crossing her feet while standing or sitting, and the like.

But she set an almost infinitely higher value on interior self-denial—that of the will and the mind. She would not defend herself when falsely accused, refused to read an interesting letter, kept silence perfectly, bore cheerfully with trying oddities and faults of others, did not satisfy her curiosity even on the night she was given the first indication of her death in the form of a hemorrhage, etc. "There are trifles," she said, "which please our Lord more than the conquest of the world, a smile or a kindly word, for instance, when I feel inclined to say nothing or appear bored." And again: "Believe me, the writing of pious books, the composing of the sublimest poetry, all that does not equal the smallest act of self-denial." And one is still more astounded to hear her say to a novice who had promptly answered a knock at the door: "You have done something more glorious than if, through clever diplomacy, you had procured the good-will of the government for all religious communities and had been proclaimed throughout France, as a second Judith." Whence this merit? "Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the LOVE with which we do them," and hence, "the least act of pure love is worth more for God and the Church than all other good works put together." What a subject for earnest reflection and self-examination!

(2) Hidden Crosses.—St. Therese had a predilection for hidden crosses. "I know a source," she wrote, "where 'they that drink shall yet thirst,' but with a delicious thirst, a thirst one can always allay…. That source is the suffering known only to Jesus." Hence she also sang:

Oh, what charms doth pain reveal Veiled in wreathing smiles of flowers! I would suffer silently That my Jesus find relief. Joy is mine His smile to see, Though an exile in my grief."

Referring to her bitter interior trials she wrote: "For five years this way was mine, but I alone knew it; this was precisely the flower I wished to offer to Jesus, a hidden flower, which keeps its perfume only for heaven." Just why this special love for hidden crosses? "My God, what joy can he greater than to suffer for Thy love? The more the suffering is and the less it appears before men, the more it is to Thy honor and glory." Hence, "God does not despise these hidden struggles with ourselves, so much the richer in merit because they are unseen…. Through our little acts of charity, practiced in the dark, as it were, we obtain the conversion of the heathen, help the missionaries, and gain for them plentiful alms, thus building both spiritual and material dwellings for our Eucharistic Lord." Even in the weeks of her fearful and prolonged agony she preferred to be alone at night: "I am only too glad to be in a cell far removed from my Sisters, that I may not be heard (the violent cough). I am content to suffer alone; as soon as I am pitied and loaded with attention, my happiness leaves me." She saw very clearly the wounds that are inflicted on the soul that has no rest until it enjoys the human consolation of having others know its pains, as is evident from her reproof to a novice; "You feel this fatigue so much because no one is aware of it. This is indeed a very natural feeling—the desire: that people should know our aches and pains; but in giving way to it we play the coward." Accordingly she concealed her sufferings beneath a smile, so much so that she was thought insensible to pain. And I…?

(3) Vocational Crosses.—The most important duty of every person is to fulfil faithfully the obligations of his or her state of life, and this usually involves much unsought suffering. St. Therese was a religious and prized the suffering connected with the perfect interior and exterior fidelity to her Rule above all others. She kept her vows with a delicacy and refinement that may well be called heroic.

The degree to which she carried the practice of poverty would have won the admiration of St. Francis of Assisi, for she was not content with choosing deliberately what was oldest, worst, and most worn, but took a positive delight in being deprived of even that which was most necessary in food, clothing, etc.

By God's special grace she was preserved from temptations against bodily chastity, but her chastity of heart—purity of the affections—which cost her so dearly, was so exalted that her own sisters complained that she was neglectful of, nay, even cold toward, them. But with her superior light she saw that the religious life was not to be a means of indulging in the delights of family life, but rather the sacrifice thereof.

In her obedience she was a perfect copy of Him who "was obedient unto death, even the death of the cross"; conducting herself as one "whom everyone had the right to command," she obeyed all without distinction—her fellow religious, the portress, the infirmarian, etc., as she would God Himself, and this in the most trying and unreasonable commands or even mere wishes not expressed in words. Her principles were: "Even though everyone should break the Rule, it is no excuse for me," and: "Each one ought to behave as if the perfection of the entire Order depended on her personal conduct."

When the perfect fulfilment of the Rule or one's duty involves some slight inconvenience or embarrassment it is so easy to presume, or at least to seek, a legitimate dispensation; St. Therese also felt this attraction, but she resisted it courageously. "True," she said, "these trifles are a species of martyrdom; but we must be careful not to alleviate the pain of the martyrdom by permitting ourselves or securing permission for a thousand and one things which would make the religious life both comfortable and agreeable." Accordingly, she would not only not seek or presume a dispensation from any community exercise, even in her extreme illness, but finally only used such favors when obedience obliged her to do so. Her maxim was: "I can still stand on my feet, and so I must be about my duty." And mine…?

Novena Prayer

Dear St. Therese, I thank God for the spirit of sacrifice with which He so greatly inflamed you. Alas, how far I am from being inspired with a similar fervor, for I not only let slip countless little crosses, but positively reject them in my blindness and folly. How this must grieve God! Each hour He, in His love, gives me so many opportunities to give up my own views, etc., and I stubbornly refuse. What a loss for God, for souls, and my own joy in eternity! Henceforth I wish to be ever on the alert, I wish to refuse Him nothing. Help me to realize that fidelity to trifles requires just as great, yes, even greater, heroism than the doing of grander things; that the least act of pure love of God is worth more than many a brilliant exterior work done through an inferior motive though it calls forth the praise of men the world over. Obtain for me the strength to hide my suffering from human eyes, lest I lose my hard-earned merit by seeking the consolation of men, like a person who works unto exhaustion and then takes his wages and throws them into the fire. Above all, St. Therese, I desire to fulfil perfectly the duties of my state, to seek no exemption on account of personal sacrifices of inconveniences, but to do my duty "as long as I can stand on my feet," to live as if the perfection of the entire Church depended on my personal conduct. I also recommend to you my special intentions in this Novena…. God will refuse you nothing.

Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be.

Other Novena Prayers on page 46.

Third Day

THIRD DAY

St. Therese's Threefold Martyrdom

(1) Martyrdom of the Body.—St. Therese had prayed to endure the pains of martyrdom, and she was heard. Her physical suffering alone was more than a martyrdom. Even in her earlier years she suffered much, but it was especially toward the end of her earthly pilgrimage that her pains were multiplied many times over. Her strength wasted, she would literally drag herself to the various exercises of the community, sharing every duty, even the exhausting midnight office, though she had to fight against numbness, weariness and giddiness to keep on her feet. When all was finished, she would pull herself up the stairs by the banister, resting on each step for breath, so that it took her fully half an hour to traverse the icy corridor that led to her unheated cell. When she reached it, she was so worn out that sometimes it took her a full hour to undress. Then she tried to rest on her hard pallet, but having only two thin blankets, the entire night at times was spent shivering from the cold. Her sickness having impoverished her blood, she was all the more sensitive to the cold, so that she confessed on her deathbed: "My greatest physical suffering was from the cold; I have suffered so much from the cold that I thought I should die of it." But she fought on, for one of her principles was: "We must go to the end of our strength before we complain."

At length, however, she was no longer able to remain on her feet. Being forced to take to her bed, her pains increased; she coughed the greater part of the night; in the daytime she was consumed by a burning fever and exhausted by copious sweats; she was seized by violent hemorrhages and attacks of suffocation; her extreme emaciation caused very painful sores; when the infirmarian tried to relieve her by raising her to a sitting position, she said it felt as if she were sitting on spikes. "If you only knew," she said, "what I am suffering. One has to experience it to know what it means. I can easily understand why people without faith are tempted to take their life when they suffer like this…. I tell you, when one is suffering like this, one is but a step removed from going out of one's mind." Dare I still ask: "Did St Therese really suffer much?" Yet there was always a sweet smile on her lips. And I cannot even bear trifling pains with a smile for the love of God?

(2) Martyrdom of the Heart.—This is even more painful than martyrdom of the body. Even as a child the heart of St. Therese craved for love and affection. "My heart," she wrote, "is naturally sensitive, and because of this, is a cause of much suffering. I wish to offer Jesus all that it can bear." What one might ordinarily lament was for her a source of joy, because of the opportunities it afforded her of proving her love by suffering.

A natural aversion which she felt for another Sister was so strong that her only refuge often lay in flight; yet she was so pleasant toward the Sister that she was suspected of having a particular friendship with her. She volunteered her services to assist a sick nun, though she "knew beforehand the impossibility of satisfying her," and she did it "with such great care that she could not have done better had she been waiting on our Lord Himself." She offered her aid to the portress, who sorely tried her patience by her particularities and unbearable slowness; but Therese's playful amiability did not allow anyone even to guess the violent interior struggle she was waging.

Living in the same convent with three of her sisters, she had much to suffer in curbing her naturally very affective nature and said that God offered her more than one bitter chalice through them. Of all the members of the community she was the one who at recreation associated least of all with her sisters; she worked side by side for many months with her dear Pauline; but never spoke a word to her. "O my little mother," she said later, "how I suffered! I could not open my heart to you and I thought that you no longer knew me."

This martyrdom of the heart was especially bitter in regard to her dearly beloved father in his trying illness. Words failed to express her grief, and she made no attempt to describe it. Her tears flowed so fast that she could not hold her pen to write, and yet she said: "The three years of my father's martyrdom seem to me the sweetest and most fruitful of my whole life. I would not exchange them for the most sublime ecstasies, and my heart cries out in gratitude for such a priceless treasure: 'We have rejoiced for the days wherein Thou hast afflicted us.' Precious and sweet was this bitter cross." Mysterious words! Bitter, yet sweet! If I am eager to offer Jesus all the suffering my heart can endure, I shall understand. Am I…?

(3) Martyrdom or the Soul.—This is the severest of all suffering. It comes directly from God, and apparently without reason, without warning. St. Therese ate the hard and dry bread of spiritual aridity, of want of consolation in prayer daily throughout her religious life. "For me it is always night, always dark, black night." "Dryness and drowsiness—such is the state of my soul in its intercourse with Jesus! But since my Beloved wishes to sleep, I shall not prevent Him." She found retreats exceptionally trying: "I went through the retreat in a state of utter dryness and as if abandoned by God. Jesus, as was His wont, slept in my little barque. How rarely do souls suffer Him to sleep in peace! Their good Master is so wearied with continually making fresh advances that He eagerly avails Himself of the repose I offer Him, and, no doubt, He will sleep on until my great and everlasting retreat; but instead of being grieved at this I am glad." There was no time at which she felt less consolation than at Holy Communion. But she did not give up, shorten or hasten through her spiritual exercises on that account. "When I am in this state of spiritual dryness, unable to pray, or to practice virtue, I look for little opportunities, for the smallest trifles to please Jesus, such as a smile, a kindly word when I would rather be silent…. If no such occasion offers, I try at least to say over and over again that I love Him."