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. 

A tableau of Our Lady nursing Jesus painted by Celine Martin at Therese's request. This image corresponds to verse 4 of "Jesus, My Beloved, Remember!" Displayed at Lisieux in the exposition of 2009. Fervent thanks to Peter and Liane Klostermann for the gift of the photograph and to the Pilgrimage Office at Lisieux for permitting me to display it.

Therese wrote the poem “Jesus, My Beloved, Remember!” for her sister Celine’s feast day in 1895.  Celine was then a novice and had been in Carmel for more than a year.  In June she had made the Offering of herself to Merciful Love with Therese.  In her testimony at the 1910 process, she describes the genesis of this poem:

When I joined the Carmel, I thought that God owed me for the great sacrifice I was making for Him, and, to encourage me in my effort, I begged Thérèse to write me a hymn that would summarise everything that I had left behind for God and end with the word, “Remember”.   She did compose it, but not at all in the way I had hoped, because the soul in the poem reminds Jesus of all that He has done for her. The soul is the one who is indebted and Jesus is the benefactor (PN 24).

From the Archives of the Web site of the Carmel of Lisieux

This poem was not a crude effort to “teach Celine a lesson.”  Instead, it expressed the love and gratitude that were overflowing from Therese’s heart during this year of 1895, when, “casting a glance backward” over her life in order to write her first manuscript, she had a concrete occasion to remember and “to sing the Mercies of the Lord.” 

In “Why I Love You, O Mary” Therese wrote all that she thought about the Blessed Virgin.  “Jesus, My Beloved, Remember” is similarly deep and broad in scope, but this time about Jesus: a song of her tender and intimate love for Jesus.  In 33 verses, Therese pours out the thoughts, not of her mind but of her heart, about the Incarnation, the hidden life of Jesus, and his passion, death, and resurrection.  She does not speak of Jesus in the abstract, but locates Celine, the "sweet echo of my soul," and herself in relationship to his life, his love for them and for the world, and his ministry:

Oh! Jesus, my little Brother, deign to invite me

To that feast of love Your Mother gives you1

[Learn the full story of the portrait of Mary nursing Jesus, painted by Celine at Therese's request but then offered to Leonie].

O Jesus! come within me, come rest your Head,

Come, my soul is truly ready to receive you2 

That I want, O my God,

To carry your Fire far and wide,

Remember3

I invite you to read this poem and meditate on it.  Here Therese, the artist, uses Scripture as the foundation for expressing her intimate relationship with Jesus. She depicts his hidden life, his love for children, the role of his mother in the "way of confidence and love," the apostolate of prayer for priests and for sinners, the "Fire of Heaven" she wants to spread, the Face of Jesus, the love the Crucified poured out on us, and the life of prayer, faith, and waiting for God that is ours since the Resurrection.  

In stanza 12 Therese wrote:

Make me wise in the ways of heaven.

Show me the secrets hidden in the Gospel.4

The poem shows that God answered her prayer.  "Jesus, My Beloved, Remember!" is truly written by a Doctor of the Church.  It is an overlooked jewel which deserves detailed analysis. How does it speak to your heart?

Thanks to the generosity of the Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites and the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux, read the full text of “Jesus, My Beloved, Remember!” online.  The valuable introduction and notes, essential for a full understanding of the poem, appear only in The Poetry of Saint Therese of Lisieux, tr. Donald Kinney, O.C.D.  Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1996.

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Notes:

1.  The Poetry of Saint Therese of Lisieux, tr. Donald Kinney, O.C.D.  Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1996, p. 124.

2.  Ibid., p. 125

3. Ibid., p. 127.

4. Ibid., p. 126.

Maurice Belliere. Photo Credit: White Fathers (Missionaries of Africa)After the 21-year-old seminarian, Maurice Belliere, wrote to the prioress of the Lisieux Carmel asking her to designate a nun to pray and sacrifice herself especially for his vocation and mission, and Mother Agnes of Jesus, Therese's sister Pauline, chose Therese for this mission, Therese composed her first prayer for Maurice Belliere (ACL).  This is the eighth of the twenty-one formal prayers found among her writings.  (She often suddenly "lapsed" into spontaneous prayers in her other writings).  This prayer was in Therese's voice; she wrote it to pray herself, but she gave it to her prioress, who, without allowing Therese to correspond with Maurice, sent him the prayer no later than October 22, 1895.  (Their exchange of letters came only later, under the priorate of Mother Gonzague). 

Characteristically, Therese begins "O my Jesus!  I thank you for having fulfilled one of my greatest desires . . . ."  She means business: "I offer you joyfully all the prayers and sacrifices at my disposal."  In fact, in her rough draft, she wrote "I want my life to be consecrated to him," a line later struck out.1  In a phrase reminiscent of her June "Offering of myself as a Victim of Holocaust to Your Merciful Love," she asks Jesus to look on her as "a religious wholly inflamed with your love."  She declares solemnly "Now my desire will be reaized." 

Since the state no longer exempted seminarians from military service, Maurice is about to leave the seminary for the barracks.  He has written the Carmel for help at a vulnerable moment in his young life, and Therese asks Jesus to "keep him safe amid the dangers of the world."  She then turns to Mary, the "gentle Queen of Carmel," drawing a comparison between how Mary wrapped Jesus in swaddling clothes and how Maurice will hold the Eucharist in his hands at the altar.  Read the full text of Therese's "Prayer for Abbe Bellliere" thanks to the generosity of the Washington Province of Discalced Carmelites and the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux. 

Notes

ACL = Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux.

1.  The Prayers of Saint Therese of Lisieux, ed. Steven Payne, O.C.D., tr. Aletheia Kane, O.C.D.  Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1997, p. 81.

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 We have looked at the first “blind” letter Maurice Belliere, a 21-year-old seminarian for the diocese of Bayeux, wrote on Monday, October 15, 1895 to the prioress of the Lisieux Carmel, asking that a nun dedicate her prayers and sacrifices for his vocation and mission. Maurice’s letter was mailed on the 16th and reached the monastery on the 17th.  Therese’s sister Pauline, Mother Agnes of Jesus, was then prioress, and she chose to ask Therese, then 22, to undertake this mission.  It's not until 20 months later, when Therese is writing her third autobiographical manuscript, addressed to Mother Gonzague in June 1897, that Therese recounts how, on Thursday, October 17th, when she was hard at work with the community in the laundry room, Mother Agnes took her aside and read Maurice's letter to her.  Since Maurice wrote on October 15, the feast of her patron, Teresa of Avila, Therese considered him "a feast-day gift."  She recalls the desire she had  cherished since childhood of having a brother who would become a priest.  Maurice had "promised to remember the one who would become his sister at the Holy Sacrifice each day after he was ordained."  Therese, of course, never approached the altar; it was outside the enclosure, and she was separated from it by the grille, so that Maurice's offer decreased the distance between her and the Eucharist she loved so much.  She was deeply touched by this delicacy of Jesus, and she wrote: "Mother, it would be impossible for me to express my happiness."  Read her full account on the Web site of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux.

Characteristically, Therese took this mission very seriously:  "I understood fully the obligation I was imposing on myself, and I set to work by trying to redouble my fervor."  Mother Agnes, who laid great emphasis on silence and hiddenness for Carmelites, preferred Therese not to engage in correspondence with this young seminarian, so she answered his letter herself.  Therese did compose a prayer for him, and in our next entry we will examine this prayer, which Mother Agnes sent to Maurice.

Source:  Story of a Soul, The Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux, 3rd edition, tr. John Clarke, O.C.D.  Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1996.