Saint Therese of Lisieux Archives

Repent = Rethink

Carmelite Homily for the First Sunday of Lent, February 18, 2024 – Lectionary 23 (Mark 1:12-15).

In today’s Gospel the very first words out of Jesus’ mouth in Mark’s Gospel is “Repent, and believe the Good News!” We hear that word “repent” and we think it is kind of a negative word. That it means to be sorry for our actions. But no, that’s not what it meant in those days. It meant repent = rethink. Like we use the word “pensively” to mean “thoughtfully.” ‘Pent’ means ‘to think.’ So what Jesus is announcing is “rethink” – think differently; think new. And it’s Good News. Everything we thought about life: oh, we’ve got to just survive it, or I’ve got to take care of just me, or life is hard, or God is mad. All that, no, rethink. It’s Good News. Life is meant to be Good News. Saint Therese says, “You will not arrive at what you desire by your own path or even by high contemplation, but only a great humility and surrender of heart.” I think that’s what Jesus means when he says, “Repent and believe in the Good News!” And that’s what Jesus is inviting us to. He is inviting us to put on the mind of Christ. The mind of Life. In Paul’s letter to the Philippians he begins with this beautiful passage about, “don’t worry about just yourself but worry about your neighbor too; take care of them.” And he concludes that passage with “put on the mind of Christ.” That’s what “repent” means: to put on the mind of Christ. And when we do that we see, “wow, I was thinking wrong; or I was doing wrong; or I was just simply wrong!” And then the new meaning of repent – sorry – can kick in. Because, wow, was I dumb! It’s time for me to rethink and relive. And that’s the Good News.

Healing Smiles

Carmelite Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time, February 4, 2024 – Lectionary 74 (Mark 1:29-39)

Saint Therese of Lisieux, a Carmelite, oftentimes called the ‘Little Flower’ has an autobiography called “A Story of a Soul.” A very popular book. And in that book she writes about one of the sisters. Here’s what she writes (I love this passage): “There is in my community a sister who has the ability to displease me in everything – in her ways, her words, her character, everything seems very disagreeable to me. And still, she must be a holy religious, very pleasing to God. So not wishing to give in to this natural dislike I was experiencing, I told myself ‘charity must not consist only in feelings but in works’ and I set myself to doing for this sister what I would do for the person I love the most. I was content with giving her my most friendly smile. And with changing the subject of the conversation. For one day at recreation she asked, ‘would you tell me dear Sister Therese of the Child Jesus what attracts you so much towards me? For every time you look at me I see you smile.’ I was smiling because I was happy to see her. I did not add, though, that this was only from a spiritual standpoint. All Sister Therese did was smile at her. And it was enough to re-integrate her into the community; make her feeling belonging, and loved, and respected. It’s that simple. In today’s Gospel we have the healing of Simon Peter’s mother-in-law. Well, we can do that too. And it doesn’t have to be a drastic healing like that; it can be as simple as what Saint Therese did – a smile. They say that loneliness is rampant in society today. Twenty-seven percent of adults say they are chronically lonely. Maybe as Valentine’s Day approaches send a card, maybe a smile, maybe just a little word or a phone call. Bring healing. Just ease loneliness with a smile. I think that’s what the call of Jesus in today’s Gospel is – bring healing.

Live in the You

Carmelite homily for Friday, July 3, 2020, the Feast of Saint Thomas the Apostle – Lectionary 593 (John 20:24-29)

On the day that Saint Therese of Lisieux professed her vows in Carmel, she had written a prayer and put it in her pocket. And part of the prayer says, “Jesus, I ask you for nothing but peace, and love, infinite love; love which is no longer ‘I’ but ‘You.” This is my interpretation of this Feast of Saint Thomas the Apostle. Because we have Thomas who returns to the Upper Room after Jesus has left and he says, ‘I will not believe; I need to put my hands in the nail marks; I need to put my hand in his side.’ It’s all I, I, I. So the next time Jesus appears and Thomas does that he says, ‘My Lord and my God.’ What happened to all the I? I think that’s what Jesus does – he pulls us out of the I, the me, the selfishness – to the you, which is neighbor, which is God, which is those in need, the poor. That’s the call, the invitation, of today’s Gospel and this Feast: to not live in the I but in the you.

A Night So Black

Carmelite homily for Tuesday (Week 13), June 30, 2020 – Lectionary 378 (Matthew 8:23-27)

Since today’s scripture passage is the same as for February 1 this is a repeat of that homily.

In the Gospel today we have the apostles in a boat with Jesus. A storm comes up; Jesus is sleeping. They wake him up and say, “don’t you care that we’re going to die?!” These storms do come up in our lives. Saint Therese of Lisieux writes, “I knew Jesus was there, sleeping in my boat but the night was so black it was impossible to see him.” I think the invitation here is that no matter how intense the storm is or how black the night is, know that Jesus is there. And relax, be confident, have faith – the invitation today.

Enough to Make a Sad Soul Bloom

Carmelite homily for Monday (Week 12), June 22, 2020 – Lectionary 371 (Matthew 7:1-5)

In today’s Gospel Jesus warns us not to judge others and the measure we measure out will be measured back to us. And he gives us the good example of why look at the speck in your brother’s eye and miss the plank in your own. But what’s the point? I think it’s to make life rich and rewarding instead of picking at each other and bringing each other down, building each other up. Saint Therese of Lisieux, who lived in a difficult Carmel, says, “A kind word or an amiable smile is often enough to make a sad soul bloom.” That’s our purpose; that’s our mission – to make a sad soul bloom. Instead of cutting them down or trampling them, make the sad soul – make all souls – bloom. That’s our vision; that’s our duty; that’s our mission.

Nourished on Truth

Carmelite homily for Wednesday (Easter V), May 27, 2020 – Lectionary 299 (John 17:11-19)

In today’s Gospel Jesus says, as he prays for the Apostles, ‘consecrate them in truth; your word is truth; I consecrate myself for them so that they may be consecrated in truth.” There’s a lot of truth language here, but there needs to be because there’s a lot of lies. Society says, ‘oh, there shouldn’t be any pain; there really is no death; do what you want as long as you don’t hurt anyone.’ There’s a lot of lies. Advertisers! They promise everything, just buy the product. Truth needs to be discerned; discerned deeply. Saint Therese writes, “I can nourish myself on nothing but truth.” That is true – where true nourishment is. Not in lies, not in emptiness, not in falsehood – but in truth. But it takes a little bit to get there; it takes a lot of work to get to that food.

Total Delivery

Carmelite homily for Tuesday (Easter V), May 26, 2020 – Lectionary 298 (John 17:1-11)

In today’s Gospel Jesus is praying for the ones that the Father has given him. But it’s a two-way street. The Father gives us to Jesus, but then do we give ourselves then to Jesus? Saint Therese writes, “For a long time I have not belonged to myself since I delivered myself totally to Jesus, and he is therefore free to do with me as he pleases.” That’s our mission; that’s our part. Yes, the Father has given us this great gift of life; has given us Jesus. And we need to give ourselves to Jesus. To follow Therese’s example and deliver ourselves totally to him.

Remaining Here With Us

Carmelite homily for Sunday, Ascension Day, May 24, 2020 – Lectionary 58 (Matthew 28:16-20)

Today we’re celebrating Ascension Sunday. Most dioceses in the United States move the Feast to today. And I like the depictions of the Ascension, like in old prayer books or the Old Masters, the Apostles are all looking up into the sky and there’s a cloud, and from the bottom of the cloud are sticking Jesus’ feet. The message is ‘he hasn’t left us completely’ or ‘we are to follow in his footsteps.’ He remains with us. That’s exactly what Saint Therese of Lisieux understands in this Feastday. She writes, “You returned to your realm of light, and still remain hidden here to nourish us in our vale of tears, with Holy Communion.” Yes, we celebrate Ascension – Jesus departing for heaven – but there’s a lot of Jesus remaining with us still. Jesus in each one of us; Jesus in our neighbor; Jesus in the Sacraments; Jesus nourishing us in Holy Communion. So it’s partial Ascension?

Belonging to the Holy Spirit

Carmelite homily for Sunday (Easter VI), May 17, 2020 – Lectionary 55 (John 14:15-21)

In today’s Gospel Jesus says that if you love him, you will keep his commandments; the Father will send the Advocate, the Spirit the world cannot accept. What does all that mean? I think it means – what is our starting point? Do we start with ourselves? Do we start with God? Saint Therese of Lisieux writes, “My thoughts belong to the Holy Spirit; they’re not mine. Without the Spirit of Love we cannot call God our Father.” I think the call is to begin with God; begin with the Holy Spirit. That’s where it all begins with anyway, so let us start there. And we’ll find the Advocate is in our lives. God is with us. The Spirit helps us to call God our Father.

No Longer “I” but “You”

Carmelite homily for Tuesday (Easter V), May 12, 2020 – Lectionary 2286 (John 14:27-31)

On the day Saint Therese of Lisieux made vows in the Carmel of Lisieux she wrote a prayer and she carried it in her pocket on that day. The prayer reads, “Jesus, I ask you for nothing but peace – and love, infinite love; love which is no longer “I” but “you.” In today’s Gospel Jesus promises peace, but peace not as the world gives. What does that mean? I think Therese has the key, the answer there. Because the world is all about “I, me, and mine.” And she’s praying, ‘not that, but you.’ That’s the key to deep, lasting, rich peace.