Image: Wikipedia

We might imagine that, in the hallowed Lisieux Carmel, there was no laughter.  This story of how the celebration of a national civic holiday dramatically invaded the Carmel shows us how the nuns, especially Therese, could laugh.  It also allows us to get to know Therese’s novice mistress, Mother Marie of the Angels, who played a brave role in this irresistibly comic episode.

July 14 in France

After Bastille Day (the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille during the French Revolution on July 14, 1789) was declared the "national holiday of the Republic" in 1880, it was celebrated all over France every year:

From the outset, the emphasis was on the patriotic and military character of the event, expressing France’s recovery from the defeat of 1870. Every commune or locality in France held its own celebration, starting with a torchlight parade on the evening of the 13th. The next morning, church bells or gun salutes announced the military parade, which is followed by a luncheon, spectacles and games, with dancing and fireworks ending the day.¹

Mother Marie of the Angels

The town of Lisieux, in the province of Calvados, organized its own celebration, centered on the town square before St. Pierre’s Cathedral, where the pharmacy owned by Therese’s uncle, Isidore Guerin, was located.  One year, sometime between 1888 and 1895, while Sister Therese of the Child Jesus was living in the Carmel, the "spectacles and games" there in the afternoon forced their way into the Carmel in a surprising fashion.  The heroine of the episode was Therese's novice mistress, Mother Marie of the Angels (1845-1924).  Born Jeanne de Chaumontel, she was the daughter of a count who was a knight of the Legion of Honor.  Several times, during her religious life, she displayed the courage of the true aristocrat.  Marie of the Angels testified at both processes for Therese; she lived to see her novice beatified, but died in 1924, before the canonization.  Writing her obituary circular, Therese’s sister Pauline, Mother Agnes, recounted some of these incidents.

The Flood

On July 7, 1875, long before Therese entered, a catastrophic flood devastated the lower parts of Lisieux.  (Zelie's letters show that she sent a contribution to the fund for the flood relief²).  After eight hours of torrential rain, the flood violently damaged the Carmel, which was located in the valley of the Orbiquet River.  In less than 15 minutes, the flood filled the monastery with oily sludge.  Several nuns almost died trying to rescue the poultry and the laundry, and the public chapel, where the Blessed Sacrament was reserved, was flooded.  The nuns could reach it only if someone could fit through the “little Communion grille” [see it by clicking and scrolling to the bottom left of the page] which divided the nuns’ choir from the sanctuary of the chapel.  Marie of the Angels, the thinnest of all the nuns, wriggled through the grille and rescued the Sacrament.  Upstairs, the nuns knelt in prayer before the tabernacle all night.³

The Fire

Pauline tells how, after Therese entered, Marie of the Angels intrepidly extinguished a fire which could have destroyed the monastery:

One day Sister Marie of the Angels admired the composure of her holy Novice at the beginning of a fire who was only imitating the intrepid Mistress that nothing frightened. A container of gas had caught fire in the work area of the lamps; our courageous Sister slipped into the little room that was filled with flames. She was soon surrounded by them. Invoking the Blessed Virgin, she soon extinguished the fire but not without burning her hands in such a way that she had to wear bandages very painfully for weeks to heal.⁴

Facing the Demon

In this story of July 14, Sister Marie of the Angels showed courage in facing what she believed was a supernatural enemy.  Her bravery was no less admirable because she was mistaken.  We do not know the year, but the incident took place sometime before Therese’s cousin, Marie Guerin, entered in August 1895.  She heard the story and saved it up to tell her father on July 17, 1896, shortly after her first Bastille Day in Carmel.  Having lived in the apartment above the pharmacy, which directly overlooked the town square, she and her father were familiar with how the holidays were celebrated:

You know and can remember, dear darling Father, that on 14th July and other public holidays, small balloons used to be let loose before the big balloons to amuse the crowd, among others little men, puppets and others of different colours, about the size of a 9 or 10-year-old child. You can remember these little balloon men, can’t you?... It’s absolutely vital for my story… One of these little balloon men came and ran aground one 14th July in the inner courtyard of the Carmel. Mother Sub-Prioress (Sister Marie of the Angels, first launderer, at least during Thérèse’s noviciat) and other Sisters who were working in one of the rooms saw this little man descend into the inner courtyard. Fear seized them, they turned pale and didn’t dare move…

They had never seen the like before… Finally they decided to go outside with a broom wanting to slay the little man.⁵

[Marie tells how, when Mother Marie of the Angels struck down the “little man” with a stick, he repeatedly bobbed up from the ground, face first, and appeared to be bowing to her :]

But the more they hit the latter, the more he tried to fly away and, like a balloon, didn’t stay put and kept bowing to Mother Sub-Prioress who, seized with fear, shouted: “It’s the devil!... It’s the devil!... we must kill it!... we must kill it!...”⁶

Later, in 1924, Pauline wrote that the “little man” looked like a “frightful midget coming down. It was dressed in a flesh-colored suit that was so tight that it appeared to be nude.”  When Marie of the Angels hit it with the stick, it “seemed to mock her and answered with deep bows and a calm smile that she deemed satanic. She cried, “Throw holy water on it!”⁷  Marie Guerin continues:

Well, the more they chased him, the more the little man followed Mother Sub-Prioress, bowing to her. He even mounted to the first floor terrace [above the cloister].  This panicked everyone further, then he came down… and, still convinced it was the devil, another Sister went to fetch the holy water and sprinkler!!!... While Mother Sub-Prioress was chasing the little man, Mother Heart of Jesus (Miss Pichery) sprayed him and made the signs of the cross. All the while this little game was going on, and it went on a long time, the sprinkler produced the desired effect. At last, by dint of chasing the unfortunate balloon, they eventually burst it. Then Mother Sub-Prioress saw that her famous devil was simply a balloon. Everyone laughed hard, apparently, and for a very long time, its carcass was hung in a tree like a trophy and to scare away birds.⁸

 Pauline concludes: “Sister Therese of the Child Jesus laughed until she cried.”  She adds that, soon afterward, the town authorities sent a representative to the Carmel to apologize and to ask whether one of the balloons that had escaped from the square had disturbed the nuns.  The portress answered as best she could without telling the drama of the exorcism.⁹

To picture the peaceful cloister courtyard that was disturbed by this "frightful midget" sailing down from the heavens, with Mother Marie of the Angels chasing the balloon and hitting it with her stick while Mother Heart of Jesus sprinkled it and crossed herself, view this video, courtesy of the Carmel of Lisieux, which shows the courtyard starting at 1:27:

Entrance of the monastery from Carmel de Lisieux on Vimeo.

 We can imagine how the nuns laughingly told the story of this “exorcism” to Marie Guerin and to later postulants. 

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I am especially grateful to the Carmel of Lisieux for digitizing its archives, translating them into English, and displaying them on the marvelous Web site of the Carmel of Lisieux.  Without them,  I could never have researched and written this article.

1  From "The 14th of July: Bastille Day," on the Web site "France Diplomacy," accessed July 14, 2021.

² From Zelie to her sister-in-law, Celine Guerin, July 11, 1875.  See A Call to a Deeper Love: The Family Correspondence of the Parents of Saint Therese of the Child Jesus, 1863-1885," tr. Ann Connors Hess, edited Dr. Frances Renda.  Staten Island, New York: Society of St. Paul/Alba House, 2011, p. 181.

³  Obituary circular of Sister Marie of the Angels, on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux, accessed July 14, 2021.

⁴ Ibid., accessed July 14, 2021.

^5.  Letter of Sister Marie of the Eucharist to her father, Isidore Guerin, July 17, 1896, on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux.  Accessed July 14, 2021.

^6.  Ibid., accessed July 14, 2021.

^7.  Obituary circular of Sister Marie of the Angels^, on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux, accessed July 14, 2021.

⁸ Letter of Sister Marie of the Eucharist to her father, Isidore Guerin, July 17, 1896, on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux.  Accessed July 14, 2021.

⁹  Ibid., accessed July 14, 2021.

The Plays of St. Therese of Lisieux

The feast of Mother Marie de Gonzague: June 21, 1896

The prioress's feast was always a day of special celebration at the Lisieux Carmel, but in 1896  the feast day of Mother Marie de Gonzague was celebrated with particularly elaborate festivities.  Marie de Gonzague's patron was St. Aloysius Gonzaga, known in France as "St. Louis de Gonzague," the young Jesuit who died while caring for victims of a plague in Rome.  Because Mother Marie de Gonzague had been elected prioress in March only after seven ballots, and was deeply hurt that the vote had been so divided, the nuns wanted to celebrate the feast as lavishly as possible. Writing to her parents to ask for a long list of treats: trout, green beans, strawberries, cakes, wine, cherries from Jeanne Guerin, sparkling water from Leonie, Marie  Guerin (Sister Marie of the Eucharst) wrote on June 17:  "For this feast, we must shake things up.  You understand, don't you?  We would rather have less on other feast days and more on this one."1  The bountiful celebration at which all the treats would be consumed took place on Saturday at 3:00 p.m. 

After that the novices presented a short comic play they had written themselves.  Marie of the Eucharist played the gardener, Baptiste, the "innocent"; Sister Marie of the Trinity was the schoolmaster, and Sister Genevieve (Celine) "old Father Jerome."  The manuscript of this sketch was sent to the Guerins; it did not survive.

Context for the writing of "The Triumph of Humility"

The next day, Sunday, June 21, the novitiate presented a much more serious effort: Therese's seventh play, The Triumph of Humility.  Current events, both in the Lisieux Carmel and in the wider world, gave birth in Therese's mind to the idea for this play.  The difficult election in March had divided the community, leaving the nuns unsettled.  At the same time, the Catholic world was convulsed with the tale of Diana Vaughan.  Miss Vaughan, daughter of an American father and a French mother, was an adherent of Palladism, a supposed Satanic cult within Freemasonry.  Many Catholics had developed sympathy with Diana and prayed for her conversion.  In June 1895, Joan of Arc freed Diana from the grip of the devil.  Diana then began to publish against Freemasonry, publishing a Eucharistic novena and her Memoires of an Ex-Palladist.  The novices believed that Diana's conversion could furnish the plot for the feast-day play.  We will hear more of Diana Vaughan when we examine the events of 1897.  Meanwhile, Therese grasped the opportunity to create an entertainment that might restore the community's equilibrium.

Resources: to read the text and understand the play's significance

For a full understanding of these circumstances, please consult the foreword to The Triumph of Humility in The Plays of St. Therese of Lisieux, tr. Susan Conroy and David J. Dwyer, ed. Steven Payne, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C.: Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites, 2008), pp. 298-305.  If you cannot buy or borrow the book,then, thanks to the generosity of the Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites and the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux, the text of The Triumph of Humility is available online. 

For those without access to the book, further background is available online  The late Fr. John F. Russell, O. Carm., who, with Miss Helen Bailey, was the first to translate this play into English, also furnished an introduction, reflection, and notes which are informative.  Thanks to Carmelnet, they appear online with his  translation of "The Triumph of Humility." 

The performance of "The Triumph of Humility" at recreation

Therese's play is lively but simple and short.  She has not forgotten that in January her sister, Mother Agnes, stopped the performance of The Flight into Egypt, saying that her plays were too long and tired the nuns out.  The play is set in "the heated room" (the actual recreation room in which the nuns sat watching it).   

Sitting room from Carmel de Lisieux on Vimeo.

In this play Therese had intended the novices to play themselves.  The three characters were Sister Therese of the Child Jesus, Sister Marie-Madeleine, and a choir postulant, Sister Marie of the Holy Spirit.  Therese had written in this last role because, when she was writing the play, the community expected to receive a new postulant before the feast.  She decided not to enter, so Sister Martha of Jesus replaced her.2  On a "free day," when they had permission to talk, the three young sisters are seated in the recreation room with their backs to a screen.  I will not attempt to recreate the play here; please read it.   Lucifer and his demons, eager to destroy the Church, struggle with St. Michael, who defends it.  St. Michael makes clear that it is by "the humility of the Virgin Mary" that the demons are vanquished. 

Therese's insight into the temptations faced by the Carmelites

Therese points out a number of ways the Carmelites are distracted from God.  Lucifer says "The virgins are not all our enemies; a number of them serve me without knowing it."  He recommends that the demons "distract them with the noise of the world" and "suggest to them that they absorb themselves in their own affairs."  He tells Michael that "the virgins may obey, all the while keeping their own will in the bottom of their hearts, they may obey and desire to command, what then makes them more than I?"  Therese's plot boldly suggests that the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience are not enough to counterbalance the enemy, but humility defeats him instantly.  In the play Sister Therese rejoices: "now we know how to conquer the demon and, from now on, we'll have but one desire, to practice humility . . . "3 

Footnotes:

1  See the full text of this letter on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux.

2  Sainte Therese de l'Enfant Jesus et de la Sainte Face, Recreations pieuses - Prieres, Nouvelle edition.  Paris: Editions du Cerf et Desclee de Brouwer, 1992, p. 383.

3  The Plays of St. Therese of Lisieux (Washington, D.C.: Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites, 2008), p. 314; pp. 318-320. 

"Anno Domini," painted by Edwin Longsden Long

January 21, 1896 was the third and final feast day of Therese's sister Pauline, Mother Agnes of Jesus, while she was prioress.  For her first two feast days as prioress, Therese had written, produced, and starred in two plays about Joan of Arc.  For this one, she wrote the second longest of her eight plays, "The Flight into Egypt," the text of which is available online  thanks to the Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites and the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux. 

Background

Although it was customary for the novitiate to offer an entertainment on special feast days, "The Flight into Egypt" was a departure for Therese.  Most of her writings depend on Scripture, and this play contains at least 70 quotations from Scripture.  But the actual incident she dramatizes is based on a legend in the apocryphal gospels: that Joseph and Mary, fleeing to Egypt, asked for shelter in a den of thieves.  Susanna, the wife of the chief bandit, was the mother of his baby son, Dismas, who had leprosy.  Mary asked for water to bathe Jesus, and then Joseph, citing the healing of Naaman, urged Susanna to bathe her son in the same water.  He was immediately healed.  Many years later, the child Dismas grew up to be the "good thief" who, according to the gospel, was crucified with Jesus, who promised him "This day you will be with me in Paradise."

The Production

The book "The Plays of St. Therese of Lisieux" features an introduction to this play which is indispensable for a fuller understanding of it.  There we learn that this play was probably performed in the chapter room on the second floor, where the giant creche remained on display from Christmas until February 2.  Therese herself played the Virgin Mary; Celine could have played St. Joseph, and the roles of the chief bandit, Abramin, and his wife, Susanna, might have been taken by Marie of the Eucharist and Marie of the Trinity. 

The events of January 21 show how human both Therese and her sister, the prioress, were.  First, on the vigil of the feast, Therese, arriving in choir, knelt before Mother Agnes and surrendered the "copybook of memories" she had been writing at the prioress's request for a year (now the first manuscript of "Story of a Soul").  Mother Agnes, busy winding up her term as prioress, put it in a drawer and left it there for several months.  She tells us that, when she told Therese that she had had no time to read it yet, Therese displayed no disappointment. 

A Theatrical Fiasco

The next evening, Mother Agnes stopped the performance of "The Flight into Egypt" before it was over.  She told Therese flatly that her plays were too long and that they tired the community out.  Celine found her sister in one of the alcoves, drying a few tears in private.  How deeply she must have been hurt by this rejection of the work into which she had poured her whole soul.  But Therese soon regained her self-control "and remained peaceful and sweet in spite of the humiliation." The saint's literary works, which interest us so profoundly, were not always well received on their first appearance!

Themes of the Play

The Destiny of Jesus

Unlike Therese's later poem "Why I Love You, O Mary," in which she depicts Mary as living in the night of faith, "The Flight into Egypt" shows both Joseph and Mary as fully aware, even in the infancy of their son, of his identity and mission.  They speak to each other of the privilege of caring for "the King of Heaven, the Savior of humanity." 

The Inequality of the Rich and the Poor

Joseph's experience as a working man is harsh, and he is afraid to see his son become "a poor workman like me."  But later, when Susanna suggests that the only way to escape poverty is "to rebel against the rich and to seize from them the wealth that is unjustly divided," both Joseph and Mary tell her gently that wealth is not the source of happiness.  Joseph says that at the end of time "this God of goodness and mercy . . . will reward . . . the simple desires to serve Him and love Him . . . he will judge the poor with justice."  Susanna and all the bandits are deeply moved, and they kneel before the child Jesus. 

The Redeeming Power of Jesus

Susanna tells Mary that she is afraid her husband may return to his crimes and that his son may grow up to follow that path.  Mary answers that "the infinite mercy of the good  God . . . is great enough to wipe away the worst crimes when it finds a mother's heart with complete trust in it . . . Dismas will have to be washed in the blood of the Redeemer . . . . your son will enter into the Celestial kingdom."

The Possibility of Exile

Anticlerical decrees were multiplying, and the possibility of religious communities being forced into exile (as many were just a few years later) was coming closer and closer.  In the ending song (which, it seems, the community did not hear that night!), Therese placed in the mouth of an angel the assurance that "the virgins of the Lord" will "receive in exchange for their love an eternity to love in Heaven."

This play gives insights into Therese's thought that are found nowhere else in her writing.  We are fortunate to have it.

 Icon of St. Agnes by Joan Cole. Trinity Stores.

January 21, 1896, the feast of St. Agnes, was the feast day of Mother Agnes of Jesus (Therese's sister Pauline), who was then prioress of the Lisieux Carmel.  As one of her  gifts for her sister's feast, Therese wrote her twenty-sixth poem, "The Responses of Saint Agnes," based on the "Responses" from the Divine Office for the feast of St. Agnes. 

Therese had felt a special kinship for this young martyr at least since visiting her tomb in Rome in 1887.  This is a betrothal poem in which she celebrates virginity and spiritual poverty.

Christ is my Love, He is my whole life.

He is the Fiancé who alone delights my eyes.

Thus I already hear the melodious sounds

The text is available online at the link to the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux above.  For a fuller understanding of it, I strongly recommend reading the introduction available only in the book The Poetry of Saint Therese of Lisieux, tr. Donald Kinney, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C.: Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites, Inc., 1995), pp. 136-137.  It situates this "engagement poem" in the context of Therese's spiritual life and notes the many images she draws from the Spiritual Canticle of St. John of the Cross.  Indeed, the book of Therese's poetry is vital to any reader who seeks a deeper knowledge of the movements of Therese's soul.

As we will see, this "engagement poem" is one of the last expressions of Therese's spiritual betrothal.  The months of 1896 will draw her into a much deeper union with her Beloved.

 As Christmas 1895 approached, Therese, just short of her 23rd birthday, was ending a year of grace.  She had many responsibilities.  Celine was still a novice; their cousin, Marie Guerin, had entered as a postulant on August 15, 1895.  The feast day of the prioress, Mother Agnes (January 21, 1896) was approaching, when Therese would have to hand in her first "copybook of memories" (today the first manuscript of Story of a Soul), and write a play and a poem for that occasion.  So "The Divine Little Beggar of Christmas," a paraliturgy written by Therese in which the whole community participated, is modest compared with her longer plays.  Yet we can learn much from it.

In The Plays of Saint Therese of Lisieux (tr. Susan Conroy and David J. Dwyer; Washington, D.C.: Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites, Inc., 2008), which I recommend to you if you want to understand the importance of Therese's "pious recreations," we learn that this little liturgy replaced the short theatrical piece usually presented at the Christmas recreation, and incorporated the Carmelite custom of drawing "offices at the manger."  It was presented either in the recreation room or in the chapter room, which had a large representation of the Nativity scene.  An angel appeared carrying the child Jesus in its arms and sang to the Carmelites that "the One who is begging from you is the Eternal Word."  The nuns approached the manger in turn; each drew at random a slip of paper from a basket and gave it to the "angel."  It contained a verse about what the Child Jesus was begging from her.  The 26 verses set forth a program of Carmelite life.  This blog entry is an invitation to read "The Divine Little Beggar of Christmas;" its full text appears on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux.  The introduction and notes which appear only in the print book will greatly enhance the reader's understanding.

This Christmas it seems that our whole world is begging from us, as Jesus is, the gift of ourselves.  May God inspire us to give ourselves fully as Therese did in this year of 1895.