Read Pope Francis's top 10 secrets for happiness, thanks to uCatholic.  Do any of them remind you of his favorite saint, Therese of Lisieux?

Photo Credit: Paris Province of the Discalced Carmelite Friars

Homily

delivered by François-Marie Lethel, O.C.D.,
a Carmelite friar of the Paris province,
at the funeral of his brother, Guy Gaucher, O.C.D.,
a Carmelite friar of the same province,
the auxiliary bishop emeritus of Bayeux and Lisieux,
and the friend of Thérèse,
on July 10, 2014 in the Basilica of St. Thérèse at Lisieux

Dear Friends,

            Our brother Guy Gaucher brings us together to celebrate together the Passover of Jesus in this Basilica of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. He brings us together as his brothers, his friends, and each of us has a personal bond with him.

             He asked me to give this homily because I am his brother in the Carmelite Order, in our Province of Paris, and especially because we entered the novitiate on the same day, September 21, 1967, on the feast of St. Matthew. On the following October 2, we both received the Carmelite habit at the hands of Fr Bernard Delalande, Provincial.  Then, at the end of the novitiate year, we made our Religious Profession on October 3, 1968, which was then the feast of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. After that, it was always Thérèse who brought us together with so many brothers and sisters, so many friends, believers and non-believers, present in one way or another at this moment..

            Our brother Guy himself chose the readings of Holy Scripture that we have just heard, and it is these texts that illuminate our Celebration. The words of St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans tell us the true meaning of his whole life and of his death: to live for Jesus, to die for Jesus, to belong to Jesus Dead and Risen, Unique Lord of the dead and of the living.  With the words of the Gospel of Luke, Guy invites us to relive, as he did, this journey of the two disciples of Emmaus on which the Risen Jesus came to meet them in the depth of their sadness, their inner turmoil, to revive in their hearts the flame of Hope, of Faith and of Love, so that their sorrow will turn into joy. But above all, through his own testimony, Guy comes to repeat to us these words of Jesus: “Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer his Passion in order to enter into his Glory?”

          Dear Friends, let’s listen to Guy himself, speaking to all of us at the end of his Spiritual Testament:

I thank all those who have loved me, formed me, helped me throughout my life: my parents, already gone; my family, and a great number of faithful friends in all ecclesial vocations and in the world. 

I thank above all her who entered into life saying “All is grace.”

I have tried to be in the service of her mission: to give her evangelical little way to the people of all five continents.  How she welcomes me!

I give thanks for her Doctorate, one of the high points of my life, that October 19, 1997 in Rome, Mission Sunday, the eleventh anniversary of my episcopal ordination, thanks to John Paul II.

Amen!  Alleluia!

          In these few lines, our Brother Guy tells us again in a magnificent way what was the most beautiful and most characteristic facet of his life, which is his extraordinary spiritual communion with little Thérèse.

          He reiterates this in a more developed fashion in his Simple personal notes:

On that October 19, 1997, Mission Sunday (the eleventh anniversary of my ordination as a bishop), I felt that my life had reached its goal, a goal which had been decided for me, almost without my knowledge.

Thérèse, patron of missions, of France, and of the world: the mission was at the heart of my life as a layman (Cœur vaillant, JEC, patro, Centre Richelieu), as a priest in Paris, as a Carmelite friar in HLM Orleans-La Source (such a beautiful time in my life, 16 years), as bishop (short-lived) of Meaux, then of Lisieux.

I owe first to Thérèse this flawless realism in the face of human weakness, the sin, the wounds, the walls, and the nights that sweeps away any naïveté, any narcissistic generosity and seriously confronts the unprecedented abasement of the Incarnate Word to “his poor little creature.”

I can say that Thérèse taught me much about the truth of the Gospel, making it livable, possible, because everything comes from God, in short, because “Everything is grace,” from which, consequently, flows constant thanksgiving.

Of course, she is not the only one who has enlightened me, but she has brought me from the most banal daily life into the world of holiness, which is at once loneliness and love, suffering and joy.

            For Guy, this same date of October 19 symbolized the deep bond between his Episcopal Ordination and the proclamation of Thérèse as a Doctor of the Church by Pope John Paul II.  Recall that, exactly 11 years later, on October 19, 2008, Guy had the joy of participating in the beatification of the Parents of Thérèse, Louis and Zelie Martin, here in Lisieux. And it is from the Church of Heaven that he will participate in the beatification of Paul VI, to be held in Rome on October 19 precisely. Another lovely sign, because Paul VI was deeply Theresian. He was baptized on September 30, 1897, the very day of the death of Thérèse. In declaring, for the first time, two women, Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena, as Doctors of the Church, he definitively surpassed an obstacle that his Predecessors had believed insurmountable, and he reopened the way to the doctorate for little Thérèse.  But above all, in his very depths, Paul VI had lived, like Thérèse, a very painful interior night, which was for him the night of Hope.

            Dear Friends, our brother Guy thus opens his inner world, the “world of holiness” where "Thérèse is not the only one.”  He invites us all to enter with him into this very great Mystery of the Communion of Saints, into this wonderful “circle of Saints” painted by the Blessed Fra Angelico, where the saints of heaven join hands and extend their hands to us, to guide us together, as sisters and brothers, along the path of holiness that we are called to travel.  This is one of the most beautiful teachings of Vatican II!  For Guy, there were also the other saints of Carmel, especially the other two doctors, Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, who are the “spiritual parents“ of little Thérèse, and also the Venerable Father Marie-Eugène of Child Jesus, founder of the Institute of Notre-Dame de Vie (Our Lady of Life).  Father Guy worked hard for the cause of his beatification, and he wrote Father Marie-Eugène’s biography.

          But in this “circle of saints,” our Thérèse always came in first; it is always she who held him by the hand (like Joan of Arc for Charles Péguy). Guy never stopped working for her, but even more living with her, loving with her, and suffering with her.

          Thérèse led Guy to Carmel.  Immediately after his novitiate, in 1968, he was called to work for the Critical Edition of her Works with a whole team, which was to culminate in the great Edition du Centenaire in 1992.

          But above all, our Brother Guy has fully lived the spirituality of Thérèse in its most interior dimension, which is also the most dramatic, in all the depth of the Passion and the Agony of Jesus. With Thérèse, he repeats to us Jesus' words heard in the Gospel: “Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer his Passion in order to enter into his Glory?”

          In 1972, he published his fine book, The Passion of Thérèse of Lisieux (a book that really touched me personally in those difficult years after 1968).  For Guy, this book was to have a mysterious meaning, prophetic, as the announcement of this period in which he personally relived the Passion of Thérèse in her sickness and in her interior trial.

          The period of the luminous and peaceful years of community life and of service in our Province of Paris would end in1986 with his nomination as a bishop, this “martyrdom of the Episcopate,” as he tells us in his personal notes :

I knew, in 1986, that accepting the episcopate could lead to martyrdom, and (without playing the martyr) I started to experience at Meaux a path of unexpected solitude, in complete powerlessness and in the darkest night.

I regret nothing of these three years. They were a great grace and a decisive stage in my life. Having experienced this, what worse could happen to me?

To go through this tunnel which seems interminable changes life.  One who has not lived it, what does he know?  (I mention the inestimable value of faithful friends, those in the medical profession and others).

Now I say: “Every vocation is a mission,” adding: “every mission is a passion.”

          After these three years of his passion, supported by many brothers and friends, especially by members of the Institute of Our Lady of Life that had welcomed him, Guy would know years of resurrection, of a great ecclesial fruitfulness here in Lisieux, as “Thérèse’s bishop,” which were to culminate with the Doctorate of Thérèse in 1997.  Becoming bishop emeritus in 2005, he retired to the residence of Quinsan, in Vénasque, near the community of Our Lady  of Life, and it was there that he wrote his last book, his great biography of Thérèse, published in 2010.

          After that, he found Thérèse near the Cross, in the last four years which were so painful, but always supported and accompanied by many friends. This was the last step of his way of holiness, lived with Thérèse, who said on the very day of her death:  “I do not regret having surrendered myself to love . . . Never would I have believed it was possible to suffer so much! never! never!  I cannot explain it except by the ardent desires I have had to save souls.”  Just before she died, Thérèse had fixed her gaze on Mary, the Virgin of the Smile, and, according to the beautiful expression of Father Marie-Eugène, “the light of the Virgin never shines more sweetly than in the darkness.”  She was present near our brother Guy; she is close to us right now as we prepare to celebrate her as Our Lady of Mount Carmel on July 16.

          Now, our brother Guy has entered into life, and he invites us to raise our eyes to the happiness of Heaven. Let us listen to his last words to us about this mysterious passage from death to eternal life:

 It will be a passage through a narrow door, a passover, a birth.

Because I see what I believe today (very badly), and it will be ineffable. Of faith in the vision. Ultimately, the unveiling of what was hidden, not the ephemeral light of the Transfiguration, but the opportunity to pitch one’s tent forever at the top of the mountain with Moses, Elijah, Peter, James, John, and a huge crowd that one cannot count ( .  .  . )

Jesus . . . it had to happen to him. Everything converges towards him: the earth and all its riches that I am leaving (unlike Bernanos, I can say that I really liked them), the great History of humanity.

Risen Jesus, Alpha and Omega, you are the “Door.”  You left this life to prepare the one which is to come, your own, that of the Father and of the Holy Spirit, the eternal Life you have promised us.

How many times have I quoted Thérèse’s words, “I am not dying, I am entering into life!” (LT 244).  Soon I will repeat this luminous phrase “for real,”  in another and more difficult way.

A friend often repeated to me, when we were talking of the inexpressible joys to come: “The best is ahead of us.”

May this departure be a blessing to all those I leave (temporarily).  This will be the best way to ask their forgiveness for my sins, voluntary or not, and to thank them for having been what they are.  (I mention no names; he has many names here).

A Dieu! Pray for me. We are all going to the eternal reunion, prepared by the merciful Love of the Trinity . . . .

English translation by Maureen O'Riordan, in thanksgiving.

I thank the homilist, Fr. François-Marie Lethel, O.C.D., and Fr. Guillaume Dehorter, O.C.D., the provincial superior of the Paris Province of Discalced Carmelite Friars, for permission to translate this homily.  Their generosity reflects that of their brother.

On the annniversary of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, which opened the hostilities that became World War I, and with the kind permission of the National Library of Australia's Trove Site, I'm happy to present this 1916 article about devotion to Therese among the soldiers of World War I.  [Citation: 1916 'THE STORY OF 'THE LITTLE FLOWER," Freeman's Journal (Sydney, NSW : 1850 - 1932), 19 October, p. 8, viewed 29 June, 2014, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article115590570].  Therese was the granddaughter of two soldiers of Napoleon. She saw herself during her lifetime as engaged in a spiritual combat for souls, and it is evident that she did not forget the soldiers after her death.

  I present a thumbnail image of the newspaper article.  The text appears underneath them, here on my own site, for easier reading.

THE STORY OF 'THE LITTLE FLOWER’
FRENCH SOLDIERS AND SISTER THERESE,
RELICS ON REGIMENTAL FLAG  

Paris.

I had occasion the other day to meet Monsignor de Teil 'postulateur'— to use a technical term; — of the process of beatification of Soeur Therese de Lisieux, the young Carmelite nun who, although, she died only nineteen years ago, is now so well known throughout the Catholic world. Her brief life passed almost entirely in the silence of a Carmelite convent seemed to ordinary observers, identical with, the lives of any regular and fervent religious: there were no ecstasies, no apparently marvelous manifestations about it.

Therese was a young girl of fifteen, when she became a nun, and she was but twenty-four when, after a lingering illness, she died as happy as a tired child going home. Her chief characteristics were her ardent love for and confidence in God and her extreme simplicity. Although her exterior life was marked by no extraordinary manifestations, its interior perfection deeply impressed her Prioress, who, in consequence, commanded her to write the story of her vocation; a happy thought, as it proved, for it is the book thus written, from obedience, that made the little Sister's name known throughout the Christian world, for the greater happiness of many souls.

A Promise Fulfilled 

Soeur Therese died at Lisieux, in September, 1897, aged twenty-four. One of her last utterances seemed to prophesy the countless favours that have been obtained through her intercession. 'I wish,' she said, 'to spend my time in Heaven in doing good on earth. After my death I will scatter a shower of roses.' It was this 'shower' of graces, and also the important testimonies received in Rome as to Soeur Therese's holiness, that induced Pope Pius X. to 'introduce her cause' in June, 1914, and as we write these lines the process of beatification is being pursued before the Congregation of Rites [today the Congregation for the Causes of Saints], with every prospect of success.

The 'shower' of favours that the little Sister predicted has never fallen so abundantly as since the beginning of the terrific conflict that weighs so heavily on thousands of hearts. Before me lies a tiny pamphlet published by the Carmelite nuns of Lisieux. There is no attempt to sound the little nun's praises, no high-flown or sensational stories, in this modest booklet; it merely quotes some extracts of the hundreds of letters that pour into the convent from the line of fire; they come not only from ignorant soldiers, but also from officers of every rank, to whom, strange as it may appear, the sweet memory of Soeur Therese brings comfort and strength in their strenuous struggle.

Letters from Soldiers    

An English diplomat writes that the Catholic British 'Tommies' possess and treasure relics of the 'Little Flower,' as she is generally called by her English clients; a  British chaplain that 'hundreds of soldiers' beg him for her pictures or relics; another that the influence she exercises upon the men in life and death is truly wonderful.

A French soldier, says a Red Cross nurse, died after kissing her picture, and his last words were: 'Little Sceur Therese, come and fetch me!' A Capuchin soldier, who has won the Croix de Guerre, writes: ''She continues to protect me; when I go to the trenches, the shells seem to avoid me.'  Another : 'I am no longer a lonely soldier: whoever prays God and the dear little Sister is never alone on earth.'  A colonel writes: 'The little saint has visibly protected my regiment; it has done more hard work and suffered fewer losses than any.'  Captain  A., after fifteen months campaigning, is the only officer of his regiment who is unhurt. His wife writes to Lisieux that 'when the danger is greatest he never fails to whisper, 'Sister Therese, protect us!'  Some of his men remarked, 'Our captain is always standing up under a hail of fire, and we cannot understand how it is that he is unwounded.'

Relics on Regimental Flag

On certain flags is sewn a picture of the young Carmelite. 'We are going to fasten her relics to our flag and to take her into battle with us,' writes Colonel de L; and a private, who at first refused to believe in her power, now says in a letter dated March 16th, 1916 : 'I have now been obliged to yield to evidence, and have become a devotee of the little saint.'

 The French prisoners in the German camps read the life of the little Sister. 'It is never to be found on the shelves of our camp library,' says a soldier-priest; and another adds that 'Sister Therese is the consolation of our prisoners, whom she visibly protects.' A non-commissioned officer in the same camp says: 'You cannot imagine the good done here by Sister Therese. I cannot take a step without hearing of the favours obtained through her intercession.'

A Place of Pilgrimage

The humble grave at Lisieux is frequented  by many soldiers and officers on leave.

A young airman, who married lately, went there on his wedding day with his bride, to thank the 'Little Flower' for past favours. Another pilgrim writes that he found the grave surrounded by soldiers, one of whom, taking off his Croix de Guerre, fixed it to the wooden cross at the head of the grave, shedding tears of gratitude.  

Decorations of  all kinds: Military Medals, the Legion of Honour, the Croix de Guerre, arrive daily at Lisieux as thank-offerings, and are carefully put aside by the Carmelites until the hoped-for beatification of Soeur Therese allows them to pay her public honour. In the meantime, over the bloody fields of battle at the front and in anxious or bereaved circles at home, the young Carmelite scatters her 'shower of roses,' graces of preservation from death, or spiritual favours that make death acceptable. To the letters that I have quoted I might add others that tell how Sister Therese has made her presence known in a supernatural manner to those who invoke her; but in these matters the greatest prudence is necessary, and we  give the contents of the letters as they were given to us, without in any way forestalling  the judgment of the Church. They serve, at any rate, to prove the confidence with which the little Carmelite's clients bring her their anxieties at this crucial moment.

A Supernatural Message

A nun, known in the world as the Comtesse de X, had two brothers ; both were officers, and both were killed by a shell in August, 1914. The eldest was a practical Catholic, the second had given his sister much anxiety, and when he came to bid her good-bye he refused to go to Holy Communion like his elder brother, but he allowed his sister to pin a relic, of Soeur Therese to his tunic, and he promised never to cease to wear it. Some months elapsed, the two brothers having fallen in Alsace, on German soil. It was only in March, 1915, that Sister X was informed of their deaths, and with the news came a pencil note from the younger, saying that he had just received the Last Sacraments.  'In your prayers,' said the note, 'pray for me; I could not die without telling you that I am converted. My two legs and one arm have been carried off.'  This letter reached Sister X through the Prioress of Lisieux, to whom it was sent by a comrade of. the dead officer.  When she wrote to acknowledge it, Sister X informed the Prioress that she already knew of its contents. She had been officially informed, without any details, of the death of her two brothers, and with her sorrow for both mingled keen anxiety as to the spiritual condition of the younger.  She became ill from grief, and, having daily recommended the younger to Sister Therese, was almost inclined to resent what she considered a betrayal of trust on the part of her heavenly friend.

On March 6th, 1915, in the evening, Sister X had a strange experience. She saw a field of battle and the prostrate figure of a soldier, whose two legs and one arm were hidden by bloody bandages. Near him knelt a Carmelite nun. She turned to Sister X, who recognised Soeur Therese's sweet face, and said these words: 'He went to Confession and to Communion.'  Then the vision or dream — call it as you will — passed away.

That same evening Sister X related her strange experience to her Superioress, whose letter confirms the circumstance.  The next morning, a Sunday, the same Superioress, much agitated, put the dead officer's pencil note into the hands of Sister X.  It was written in Germany on August 26th, 1914, had been sent to Lisieux at the end of six months, and forwarded in a letter written by the Carmelite Prioress to Sister X's own Superioress.

 A Final Anecdote

A last anecdote was told me by Monsignor de Teil.  A party of French soldiers, separated from their comrades, seemed hopelessly encircled by the enemy, when one of them called out: 'I propose that if we reach the French lines safely, we should after the war erect a statue of Sister Therese of Lisieux. Will you make the promise?' The promise was duly made, and the little band of soldiers reached the French lines in a manner that seemed almost miraculous. They agreed that, after the war they would all subscribe to the statue and they drew lots to know in whose village it should be erected. Mon- signor de Teil has corresponded with the particular soldier near whose home the little Sister's statue will one day stand. He is a peasant from the north of France, the father of a family, and an excellent Catholic; he gives, as to his escape and that of his comrades, minute details that point to a special protection of Heaven.

"The Sacred Heart," by Brother Mickey McGrath, OSFS. (Click on the image to purchase).

On the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, please see my article "The Abysses of Love and Mercy of the Heart of Jesus: St. Therese of Lisieux and the Sacred Heart," published on the Web site of the Apostleship of Prayer.  Let me know your thoughts about St. Therese and the Heart of Jesus. 

As it's summer, I thought you'd like to know that Fr. James Kubicki, S.J., director of the Apostleship of Prayer in the United States, is now leading a "Sacred Heart pilgrimage" to various holy places in France.  From Paris he tweeted this photo of the shrine to St. Therese at the Church of Our Lady of Victories, where she prayed fervently before leaving on her pilgrimage to Rome and where she received the grace of realizing that it was really the Blessed Virgin who had cured her of a serious illness when she was ten. 

Our Lady of Victories Church in Paris. We have arrived on pilgrimage in France. pic.twitter.com/Rt6uyoGaSM

— James Kubicki, S.J. (@frjkubickisj) June 21, 2014

Fr. Kubicki and his group also visited the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at Montmartre, where Therese and the other pilgrims attended Mass on Sunday, November 6, 1887 in the crypt, the only part of the Basilica then completed.  In the Basilica the pilgrims were all consecrated to the Sacred Heart before leaving Paris the next day.

Sacred Heart Basilica in Paris where Eucharistic adoration is 24/7 since 1885. pic.twitter.com/aGZRhxHLIE

— James Kubicki, S.J. (@frjkubickisj) June 21, 2014